Return of Galahad
by Terra Alchemist
Summary: FFVI. Years after the war Sabin and Edgar's lives return to normality, but what happens when a mad Figaroan from the past decides to get even with the world of the future?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**  
Edgar leaned on an iron door of his bedroom, blowing blond hair out of his eyes, but he didn't really know what he was looking for. Just looking for the sake of looking for once. _Even kings could do that every once in a while_ he thought as he watched his small son's even breathing as he slept. What a chaotic world the boy had been born into, so unlike the peaceful world Edgar had grown up in. Peaceful by comparison, anyway.  
He sat down heavily at his desk and scanned through the paperwork quickly. His eyes were aching, he knew they were red. So many things to do, things to see, things to repair, tools to build, new weapons to be forged, and so many anti-monarchy groups to be hunted down. He leaned back in his chair. Maybe not many groups. It was just one in particular, the others were easily picked off, but the Arlordens...

They claimed to have been on the land, before the first Figaroan, Lord Gerad Figaro the first, more than a thousand years ago, had set foot on what would be the future nation of Figaro. The Arlordens wanted land, but Edgar couldn't give it to them, nor had his father been able to before him. The land that Figaro Castle rested on was just too precious to give up. It was their home, their own land, while the Arlordens had free access to the rest. What Edgar couldn't understand, was why the Arlordens wanted the land on which Figaro stood. He guessed that, not being an Arlorden himself, that he wouldn't be able to understand why they wanted it so badly anyway, even if they explained.

Edgar took out a colored out drawing of the Arlorden chieftain, Kodaka Arlorden. Straight and tall, his statistics were on the same sheet. Six foot eight, around one hundred and seventy pounds, but by no means a fat man. He outweighed Edgar himself in every aspect, except Edgar's skill with swords and his gift of toolmaking.  
Still, he was an opponant to be wary of. Tanned by the sun and trained by the desert itself, Kodaka was a dangerous man, but he was also getting old. But no matter what advantage Edgar had, he still felt... uneasy of the man. The artist had successfully captured the dangerous light in Kodaka's eyes, and the light grey orbs burned through Edgar. There was also something strange about his pupils. Edgar squinted in the dim light. They were shaped like... fires, perhaps? He sat back again and shivered.

The man was unnerving. But there was also something... familiar... a sort of warmth in the same cold eyes, but in the face of another person. He pondered about this, pouring over the papers, examining every bit of data he had, but... It was of no use.

Gerad whimpered and cried in his sleep and Edgar soothed him before glancing wearily at the papers again. It would have to wait until another day, he decided. Or night. He sat down at the desk again. Why put it off? The more he did tonight, the less he would have to do tomorrow, and the more rest he could get. His vision blurred slightly. Would he be able to stay awake even if he wanted to, was the question.

His wife, Lynna, his beautiful Lynna, glided into the room. He put his head down on the desk in resignation, at the sight of her disapproving countenance. What a rogue he had been, flirting with every girl he could see. He certainly hadn't deserved Lynna. But then, she was the only one who snapped back and him, the wildcat. _She_ hadn't deserved _him_. She pushed her brown hair out of her face. A plain face, she said, but he didn't think so. He wanted to hit himself. Why was he admiring her when he had work to do? The nation's running smoothly depended on him.

She stroked his hair and said something to him, but he couldn't understand. She looked at him worriedly and wiped sweat off of his forehead. She said something else. It was hot, so hot. He couldn't keep his eyes open... he couldn't breathe properly. Her face slid in and out of his view, multiplying, blurring, or just disappearing. He tried to stand up but his knees wobbled and she pushed him back down, feeling his forehead. She said something else, her voice quick and high, like when she was upset, and she hugged him tightly. The contact burned him and he gasped in agony, as he was suddenly plagued by icy coldness.  
He heard something distant in his head... something... someone screaming, someone was there. Who was it, who?

Gerad woke up and stared at them both, terrified. Edgar's muscles turned to water and he couldn't control them. His breaths were labored and uneven. What was happening? Lynna screamed something, and Edgar saw no more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Lynna sat tearfully by Edgar's bed, stroking his hair gently while the doctor examined him. Gerad stood silent and majestic, as majestic as anyone could muster at six years old anyway. He tried hard not to cry, his father had always told him to try to hold back tears. A tear leaked out and ran down his cheek, but he scrubbed it away quickly. But he had also said it was okay sometimes too. He sniffed and his mother hugged him. But he wouldn't cry. He had to make his mother feel better. Edgar groaned painfully and Gerad buried his face into his mother's dress.

"What happened to him?" she managed to choke out. "Poison, Your Highness, a very damaging one indeed," Tomas, Edgar's doctor, sighed regretfully. "Can you fix Daddy, Tomas? Can you?" Gerad whispered. "For your sake, and your mother's, I'll try, little one." he smiled sorrowfully and patted Gerad's head. "I'm afraid this kingdom needs him more than ever... but someone will need to keep the throne while he's ill. But who?" Tomas pondered. 

Edgar opened his eyes a crack. "Sa...Sa..." Lynna held his head. "Edgar, don't talk... you need to rest!" Edgar ignored her and his eyebrows furrowed. "Sa...bin... Sabin..." he fell back and started to babble incoherantly. "Oh dear... This must be taxing his mind as well. It's worse than I thought... but curable I think. I'll work as hard as I can, Highness, but you must call Lord Sabin to the throne."

"Sabin... Edgar's brother. But I don't know where he is!"

"Daddy said he lives on Mount Koltz!"

"Nobody lives on Mount Koltz sweetheart."

"Daddy said!"

"Nobody lives up there Gerad, that's final," she snapped. She got up quickly, winced, and slowly sat back down. "My stomach hurts too much for me to go anywhere..." Tomas bolted upright. "Mayhaps you have the poison too! I must check! And the little Prince. Cyan, our new Commander, can go, surely! Mount Koltz is the only headway we have, so we might as well search there!"  
"Aww... I wanna go with Cyan... Daddy never lets me go anywhere, and neither does Mommy... no fair."

Cyan was quickly called and sent out to Mount Koltz. His instructions were to safely but quickly scale the mountain, find Edgar's brother, Sabin Figaro, bring him back safely, and try not to annoy him too much with his odd way of talking. "Thou art trusting thine mission into good hands, sir!" Cyan mounted his chocabo and sped off out of the desert.

Sabin eyed his wife carefully from behind the bed; she looked quite dangerous swinging that frying pan about. "Look, Selena, I'm sorry! I didn't know Junior was sitting there! I didn't mean to knock him down!" Selena gestured at him furiously and Sabin lowered his head even further down. "Okay, okay, I did knock him out, but it was an accident, honest!" He gave her his best pitiful face, but at the moment, Selena was pitiless. Junior stuck his tongue out at him from behind his mother. Selena ground her teeth angrily. Sabin cowered even further down as she stalked closer and closer. His doom was coming.

He tensed himself for the coming blow, but she kissed him on the cheek instead. "Hmm? I'm not in trouble?" she hugged him and made a series of gestures. 'How could I be mad at you? I believe you.' She left, dragging a protesting Junior behind her. He sighed. Selena, his wife, couldn't talk, and sometimes he regretted that, but... there was definitely an up-side to it. He'd never be shouted at, for sure.

He got up.He had been thinking of his friend Locke while he was training. Training with his head in the clouds was certainly not healthy for Junior, but speaking of Locke... Locke was probably still treasure hunting. It was a sure-fire bet, not a probability, and there was no doubt that he and Celes Chere had gotten married. In his last letter, Locke had written that he had had two children already. Sabin frowned. But he didn't remember being invited to a wedding, and Locke had dodged the question, but he wouldn't... nah...

Junior would be positively furious. Sabin had been training outside, and Junior had gotten in his way, so Sabin had hit him, on accident. Unfortunately, the 'accidental punch' was so strong, that it conked Junior out for a good five hours, while Sabin tried to explain that the punch hadn't been that hard anyway, and once again had said it was an accident. 

Then Selena had commenced chasing him around the house with a whole stack of pots and pans, since they were the closest things to hand. Only after she had thrown the rest at him had she decided she was going to catch him and bludgeon him with her frying pan, but it turned out she was only teasing him. What an exciting life he lived.

Luca, Junior's twin sister, pulled at his leg. "Dad, Dad! Stop daydreaming. Some guy that keeps saying 'Thou' wants you. He's a weird old guy." Sabin leapt off the bed and went to the door. "Cyan? I haven't seen you for years! Matter of fact, haven't seen anyone for years, 'cept Locke." he grinned, but it faltered at Cyan's serious face. "What's wrong?" "Sabin, thou art summoned to Figaro Castle to take over in Edgar's place!" Sabin gaped at him. "Wha-what! What happened to Edgar! Tell me! I knew something was wrong, I felt it!" he began to pace. "I... heard him screaming in my head... I didn't know... if it was just a dream or... doesn't he have anyone to take over instead of me!" Cyan shook his head. "Nay, his son, Prince Gerad, is much too young. Only six years."

"That old dog had a kid? That's a laugh. What's wrong with him, sick? Flu? Stomach ache?" Cyan shook his head again. "Poison, Sabin." Sabin stared uncomprehendingly, and his mouth worked silently. "N-no... not again... Not again! I'm not going to lose him too! I'll make sure he lives if I have to pound the life back into him again! What're you gawping at, Cyan? Let's go!"  
He turned back to the house. "Selena! Junior, Luca! I'm leaving!" Selena ran to the door. 'Where to?'

"Where? I'm going... back... home," he said haltingly. She put her fists on her hips. 'What am I supposed to do with these two? We're coming too.' Sabin ran his hand through his hair irritibly. "You can't come! It's too dangerous!" She moved closer to him and looked right into his eyes. She wasn't nearly as tall as him, only as tall as his chest, but still... 'And it's not too dangerous for you? What do you think we'll do here without you? We'll starve!'

Cyan watched thoughtfully. "I'm assuming thine wife wants to come?"   
"Mmm..." Sabin grumbled. "Tis no problem. Figaro is a large castle after all."  
"Fine... you win Selena." 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**  
"Edgar... why did this have to happen now? Remember what you said we'd do after you negotiated with the Arlordens, Edgar? You said you'd take us somewhere special. All of us, Edgar, me, you, Gerad, and the new baby... Remember?" Edgar stared at her, his eyes blank. He shivered and muttered something. Tomas watched worriedly. "My medicines should have taken effect by now... something... is keeping him... away."

Lynna's body trembled. "Away?" Tomas nodded. "He is reliving something he never thought he would relive again, something horrible that happened in his lifetime... or maybe a series of horrible events."

"What kind of horrible events?" Tomas sighed and sat down on a stool. "I think some of his worst memories might be of his parents dying. His father didn't die a happy death. He too, was poisoned, and it killed him. Edgar and his brother Sabin were still young boys when their mother died. No one knows exactly how she died, but I think Edgar does... and it's haunting him. There may be other memories too, but I'm not too sure of those. Some are just rumor. But there was one that I found disturbing." Tomas leaned closer to her. "I'm not old enough to remember, but older people say Lord Enri had a first wife by an arranged marriage named Petra. They say that it was not a happy marriage for Lord Enri, and that they seperated after he found the Lady Sabil. After Edgar and his brother were born, people say that Petra tried to poison Edgar and kill him while he was a small child, to get rid of him. Since he was the weaker one, nobody would think twice about it. 

"But Sabil heard of it from a close friend, a servant woman named Cecilia, who had seen Petra putting poisons into Edgar's food, after the cook had left it. The poor cook was terrified when Sabil questioned him; he had nothing to do with it.  
Edgar was horribly weak by then, much weaker than Prince Sabin, and Enri too, thought something was amiss. He caught Petra in the act and exiled her into the desert for her treachery. She was lucky not to have been executed. Lord Enri couldn't deal with harming women for some strange reason, so he spared her."  
Lynna stroked Edgar's hair again. "No wonder... my poor Edgar..."

"Edgar! Edga-a-a-a-a-ar! Big Brother!" Sabin burst into the room and went straight to Edgar. "Brother? Hey, c'mon Edgar, it's me!" Edgar turned his head slightly. "It's me, Sabin... you're baby brother, Edgar!"

"Dad, don't let her poison me again, Dad..." Edgar's head fell to the side. "Edgar! Edgar... Big Brother... I won't let anything happen to you. I promise. You just rest." Sabin got up, a bit shaken. He turned to Tomas. "Why did he call me Dad?" he whispered. Tomas looked at him for a while. "Well, Lord Sabin, it does strike me that you look almost exactly like your father. It might have confused Lord Edgar in his... vulnerable state."

Sabin looked into a mirror hung on the wall over a dresser. "I do, huh? I don't even remember what he looks like. I guess Edgar looks like Mother, right?" He sniffed loudly and coughed to cover up his cracking voice. "Uh, well... my family is here too... my wife and kids and... I guess I'd better get ready or something." He strode out of the room quickly and closed the door.

He went to his old room, well, the room he had shared with Edgar a long time ago. "It's been too long huh, Father..." he studied the picture hanging over the fireplace. "I guess I am the spitting image of you. But you wouldn'tve been too proud of a runaway. You know what they call me now, Mother? The Rogue Prince. I don't think it's very flattering and I don't think they'll take kindly to me as King." he looked at the picture again. His parents, happy and alive. He wished it were still that way. "Who killed you? I wished I knew, so I could hunt them down and finish them off myself!" he clenched his fists and looked down at his shoes. "But I couldn't do anything. I was a coward, and I let you die! I-" 

Selena held his wrists and unclenched his fists. 'You expect too much of yourself.' She looked at the picture thoughtfully. 'I'm sure they forgive you for any cowardice, but...' she hugged him. 'You were never a coward to me. You saved me, and you're my hero.' 

"That's good to know," he murmured. He opened the closet doors. It was a dusty and old, and he sneezed a little. "Ugh, nobody dusts around here?" There wasn't much in it. A couple of old, forlorn, clothes, spools of thread and cloth, yarns, and needles. "Mother liked to knit and stitch Father's clothes..." A couple of old suits Edgar and himself had long outgrown, and many of his mother's ripped dresses. Well beyond repair by the looks of them. He put them gently on the floor and paused as his hands found a large box. He pulled it out gingerly. "What's this?" Selena came to look out of curiousity. He rummaged through the box carefully. An old family portrait, he put that aside. Letters, bottles of ink long used up, pens long dried out, odd assortments of clothes and mementos, another portrait, a frame, a telescope, Edgar's backfired tools, Sabin's many failed tests on Figaroan history that had so frustrated his father, Edgar's perfect grades in the same subject, Edgar's swords that Sabin had broken with his small, unscathed claws, also in the box, which had made his father very proud, various tournament prizes and medals, and another box. 

"Geez, what a packrat." Sabin opened the smaller box and lifted out the armor. "Hmm...Looks like it just might fit. There's obviously nothing else in good condition that's my size..." He changed and let Selena scrutinize the new outfit. "Mmm..." she dusted of the suit. Sabin looked in the mirror. It looked basically like Edgar's, except bigger and a lot more armor. And it was red and gold instead of his brother's green and blue. He took off the shoulder plates and the stomach and knee guards, as well as the shin guards. "I don't know how he wears all of it..." Sabin muttered. "It's too confining for me." He dropped the excess into a box. "At least it doesn't have sleeves." Selena wagged a finger at him. 'But it does have a cape.'

Sabin blanched. "Do I have to?" she sighed. 'It's only the for the waist down.'  
"I suppose I can deal with that..." he put it on and looked in the mirror again. "Hmm... Something's missing..." Selena pulled at his spiked up hair. 'Or not missing. You'll need to flatten this down too.' 

"Aaargh! You can put me in fancy clothes and make me king, but you _will not_ flatten my hair." Selena gave him her most imploring look. "Look, no is no." She held up part of her hair and made a cutting motion. He grumbled and plucked at his ponytail. "I've been meaning to cut it. I just forget." She beamed and rummaged around for a pair of scissors, and with much bravado, cut his hair short at last.

She looked proudly at her handiwork and then wondered what she would do with the hair. Junior and Luca came bounding in. "Hey, hey Dad! Are you gonna be sitting on the big chair thingie?" Junior asked. "Daddy got a haircut!" Luca exclaimed. The twins then proceeded to fight over who would talk first. Luca won.  
"There're two thrones! Does that mean Momma sits up there too?" Selena squeaked and shook her head while Sabin ushered them out of the room. 

He held her face in his hands. "See? You're coming with me." She blushed and shook her head. "You're just nervous, that's all. You'll be fine, and the prettiest Queen I've ever seen." He kissed her cheek and she laughed nervously.  
"But now," his face was serious."I have to... announce my stand-in for the throne in Edgar's place." He breathed deeply and exhaled. "God, I'm scared stiff." Selena patted his arm reassuringly. 'I'll be right behind you.'


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"I hate coronations," Sabin muttered. "I run away from one and sixteen or more years later, they find a way to coronate me." he stalked away from the coronation feast, pushing the crown a little further back on his head angrily. "Stupid crown..."

"He-e-e-ey! Sa-a-a-bin! You're not gonna forget about a buddy, are 'ya?" Locke grinned at him, holding a four year old's hand, and supporting a baby with one arm. The baby cooed and pulled at his headband. "Ah, c'mon Locket, give Daddy a break! Does Locket want Mommy's attention? Yes she does! Hey! Celes!" Sabin stared. "You haven't taught them to steal, have you?"

Locke went red in the face, and would have stomped up and down if it weren't for baby Locket on his arm. "I'm not a thief, I'm a _treasure hunter_! Got that, Kingie Boy! Little Lok here'll be the best, wontcha Lok?"

The four-year-old nodded, his bandana slipping down over his eyes. "Yeah, I'll be the bestest treasure hunter ever!" Locke grinned. "That's best, kiddo, not bestest. Named him after my old man you see," he poked Lok playfully. "Looks just like the old guy, heh. Miss him a lot." he ruffled his son's hair, and retied Lok's bandana.

"What happened to him?Did he die?" Sabin asked. Locke snorted. "Him?Die?Maybe in forty years, but not now. He moved out of Old Narshe, and into New Narshe when they relocated everybody. It's a huge port and industry town nowadays, but I can't see him that often, he's so far away." He tickled baby Locket and let her bite his fingers to keep her occupied.

"These little guys are a handful, two more on the way." Sabin fiddled with a button on his overcoat idly. "I think two is enough for me." Locke winked at him. "An heir and a spare, eh buddy? Is your brother alright? He _is_ gonna recover, right?" 

"Yeah, I think he'll get over it." Sabin glanced over at his wife, watching Junior and Luca play together. And she was drinking water, that was odd. Selena usually never passed up the chance to drink a little wine whenever Sabin had enough money to bring it home. He pushed it out of his mind and decided to puzzle over that later. "Well, I guess I'll see you later then, eh Sabin?"

A man stopped next to Locke, regarding Sabin with thoughtful brown eyes. "Yes, you'll have plenty of paperwork to do that Edgar didn't finish, now won't you?"  
Sabin started. "Who are you?" The man bowed elegantly. "Lok Cole, little Locke here is my son." Sabin glared over at Locke. "I thought you said you missed him!" Locke winked at Sabin. "I did say missed didn't I? Well, I couldn't resist inviting my parents to a grand old party like this one!" Locke shrugged his shoulders.

Lok rolled a pair of dice in his fingers without looking at them. "You know, being king is like playing dice. You have to be a good guesser. You have to know where the dice will land." He threw the dice in the air and caught them in his other hand, a pair of sixes. His eyes glinted. "And you have to know when to turn things to your advantage," he slipped the dice into a suit sleeve and retrieved a pair of look-alike with three sixes on it. "And how to turn it to your advantage. Alliances have to be forged," Lok Cole stored away the weighted dice and spun two green clear dice on his index fingers. "And you need to know how to break them," he dropped the slower spinning die and broke it with his other hand, the pieces trickling out of his hand, all the while spinning the other die. "And of course you have to keep running smoothly," he retrieved a deck of cards with one hand from his suit and flipped them all at the die. "while trouble overtakes you, and look strong," the die had somehow evaded the onslaught of cards."when you really aren't." he showed Sabin the die, cracked in all of its sides. He pocketed the die. "That's how kings become legends, and that is how your father ran this kingdom. Unfortunately, he forgot one thing." He took out the green cracked die again, and another red one. He spun them both on his hand and red collided with green. The green shattered and the red spun on. "Kill or be killed." Sabin nodded mutely and Lok nodded, satisfied that his message was through, and strode away, leaving Locke with an apologetic grin on his face.

"Don't mind Dad, he's not usually like that. Looked sorta grim to me, don't you think?"

"Yeah, grim..."

"Look, why don't you look through Edgar's paperwork, and call it a night, eh?"

"Yeah, sure, why not?" Sabin headed off to his brother's workroom quickly, the noise of the coronation party fading behind him.

Sabin sat down at the desk, riffling quickly through the papers after the strange lecture from Locke's father. "Man, how could he do all this, this stuff?" he closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, letting his tired mind drift. "And this... is what Edgar has felt every night for eighteen years..." he murmured. Junior opened the door quietly and slipped inside, his young mind open and excited, exploring his regal surroundings, so different from the mountain that he had called home. His twin sister was with their mother, still talking with his aunt, Lynna, or, whatever it was that his mother did.

He lifted himself into his father's lap. "Dad? How come Uncle Edgar lives in a castle, and you live in the mountains?"

Sabin answered, his eyes closed, mind adrift. "It was what Galahad wanted," he mumbled tiredly. "Gala-had?" he asked, but his father was already asleep. "Galahad..." he got off of his father when his mother opened the room and wobbled inside unsteadily, accompanied by Luca. "Mommy needs to rest, so here she is! Good-night Mommy." Sabin's wife mumbled her good-nights, and sat on the bed. "Mommy, who's Galahad?" Selena shrugged, leaning back on the bed.  
"I'm gonna find Galahad Mommy!" Selena murmured something that sounded suspiciously like a 'that's nice dear' comment, to Junior's distaste.

He stomped on the floor. "I will! You'll see!" Sabin barked a gruff laugh. "We'll see..."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Locke glared at his father. "Dad! What was that for? You shouldn't freak out my friends you know!" he tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for his father to down his drink, and then answer. Lok looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "I just thought I should make myself clear. It wouldn't be at all healthy for Figaro's reputation to lose three kings in the span of twenty-five years." He put his glass down on the table gently. "Figaro this, Figaro that! Haven't you thought of what I want for once, instead of what precious Figaro wants?" Locke yelled at him. Lok's brows furrowed. "When haven't I thought of what you wanted, Locke?" Locke stared at him, red-faced. "Since the day King Enri, Sabin and Edgar's father, died!" Locke turned on his heel and stomped away, leaving Lok to gather his thoughts. 

Lockett watched her husband and son go toe-to-toe, or rather, Locke's toes to Lok's back, and she didn't like it. She got up, gently pulling little Lok's fingers from her dress, herded him off to his mother, Celes, and went after Locke. Locke was leaning on the stone wall of the castle, a disgruntled and hurt look on his face, a pile of glass next to him. She sighed. It was not the first glass her son had broken out of frustration. He saw her and slid down the wall, inviting her to sit with him. She stood in front of him instead, fists on her hips. He blew his hair out from his eyes. "Mom, I don't want another lecture, I'm not in the mood. I've had enough of parents for now." he looked away.

"Locke, why don't you just tell your father how you feel? You've been putting it off for years now." Locke laughed bitterly.

"Would it matter at all, Mom? Haven't I been telling him how I feel, and does he even take the slightest notice? I'm married now, I'm happy, I've got my own children to take care of," his face darkened. "I won't ignore my children, like he does to me. I don't need Dad anymore."

Lockett kneeled in front of him, brushing her brown hair out of her green eyes. "Locke...your father...he's had a rough life."

Locke's eyes blazed. "So have I! I've had to deal with his problems all my life, I let Rachel die, the world ends, I can't bring Rachel back to life, I have my own share of problems! You can't tell me I don't have problems as bad as he does!"   
Lockett looked away this time, and Locke immediately regretted his words.  
"Look, Mom, I know Dad has problems, and I love both of you... but Dad has to move on, y'know? Whatever happened to him, he's got to get over it and move on!"

Lockett leaped up, tears in her eyes. "He can't! He just can't!" Locke reached out to touch her, but she was already gone. "Mom..." he frowned and watched the wind blow the desert's white sand. "What... happened?" he was afraid it was a question he would never hear his father answer. It would have to wait for another day, he had to take care of his own family too. _But isn't Dad part of my family...?_

Junior wandered around the Figaro library, until he came to a dusty shelf full of books. If he had wanted to hide something, he would have hidden it here. He dragged a wooden chair across the floor, wincing as it scraped along the ground loudly. He clambered onto it, supporting himself on the back first, before reaching tentative fingers to the book that he wanted. The dusty book slipped out of the bookshelf and into his hands as he pulled at it. He sat down on the chair, and opened the red age worn cover. "_Figaroan Kings_... maybe Gala-had is in here." he flipped through the book, making sure not to rip any of the older, yellowed pages, and careful not to crease the newer white ones. It seemed to be a notebook, or a database on all the kings of Figaro, which was why it was in Edgar's private library. "Um... Setso Figaro, 3012, Chrono Figaro, 3044, Tetro Figaro, 3060, Sera Figaro, 3066, Rasonar Figaro, 3072, Enri Figaro, 3080, Edgar Figaro, 4000, Galahad Figaro!" Junior scanned the page intently. "Birth date unknown... what? And it looks like that page... and Daddy's page was ripped out," he muttered, looking at the tear marks. 

Selena walked in, rubbing her eyes tiredly, Sabin behind her. "What are you doing here, Junior? You should be in bed." Junior had dropped the book on the floor. "I was looking for when the first Figaroan war started, Daddy. For my homework that Mommy gave me. I didn't know it was bedtime already," he lied. Sabin studied him suspiciously. "You weren't looking for anything else?" Junior shook his head.  
Selena gestured to Sabin. 'He said he was also looking for someone named Galahad.' Sabin jerked. "G-galahad? Why would you want to know about that?" 

Junior looked up at him. "Do you know who that is Daddy? Huh?" Sabin shook his head vigorously. "No, no of course not. I think he was before my time, before my father's time maybe, and I was no great shakes at Figaroan History, never was, never will be. You should ask... your uncle Edgar when he recovers."   
Junior let his mother lead him to bed. "Okay!" They left Sabin alone in the library.  
Sabin sat down heavily on a chair. "Why in Figaro does he want to know... about Galahad?" he put his head on his hands, resignedly.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Sabin opened the iron doors of his bedroom, letting Selena sleep comfortably for the night, and went out. "Galahad... why Galahad?" he leaned against the wall. "I'm finally home, and it doesn't feel at all like home...Everything had to happen now..." He brushed his hair out of his eyes out of irritation. "At this rate I'll be chewing my nails too. I wish Dad was back... he'd know what to do."  
He didn't feel like standing in one place, so he walked around the castle, checking the guards. 

The guards in their light-weight but sturdy uniforms reported that they had lost three upper-tier guardsmen; they weren't responding to their calls. Sabin crossed his arms and thought about the situation. Upper-tier guardsmen rarely shirked off; they were promoted to that level because they didn't. But three at one time... things could change, but he didn't like it.

"Where were they assigned?" he asked.

"The bottom floors, My Liege, and the basement that houses the engine."

Sabin sighed. "All right, let's check it out."

Sabin and the two guards headed for the basement, pushing open the doors to the darkness within. The guards shivered at the sudden cold. "My Lord, it is unusual for the basement to be so cold..." the other guard nodded in agreement. "And so dark..."

Sabin ventured out from the door, his fists up and waiting for anything foolish enough to pick a fight. The guards raised their bows defensively. Sabin felt around for the main power switch, and flicked it. Nothing. He tried again, but there was still no power. "That's odd... Edgar rewired this thing not too long ago... You two stay here, I'll go deeper in for a look." He picked up a stick swathed in a cloth, and lit it with a spark of the Fire Dance Blitz. Holding the burning stick in front of him, he ventured further into the darkness.

Once he was far enough from the guards, he stopped to gather his nerves. This was no big deal, he'd been on a Phantom Train! There were no ghosts to be scared of here... except... he turned quickly, shining light on the dark. Except for the ghosts of his ancestors. He gritted his teeth and trudged on through, keeping himself alert. Unwillingly, he thought of his father, and his mother. "Will their ghosts be in here? No, no of course not... I'm not even close to the Royal Tomb... not even close." He gulped anyway, he was still nervous.

He halted at the sound of a maniacle laughter, one that made his hair stand on end and his hackles rise. There was something else in that laughter, a vicious snarling that made it maddening, and... screams... He held his torch higher and ran towards the sound, his mind screaming to run in the other direction.  
He thrust open the door right past the engine room, the treasure room, and was met by a truly horrific sight that would have made him turn his eyes, had it not been for the enemy in sight.  
He had found the three guards, or rather, what was left of their hideously mangled bodies. Blood was spattered all over the room, on the suits of armor, and the treasure vaults. He could not recognize the three unfortunates, they had been so carelessly ripped apart. And then, there was, the thing.  
Twice as tall as Sabin, he stared into the deep, mad eyes. Blood dripped from its jaw, from its six inch claws. Sabin stepped back holding the torch in front of him for protection as the creature advanced on him. It had enourmous horns protruding from under its thick brown hair, wicked canines designed for ripping and tearing, heavily muscled but very agile legs, and clawed clubs for arms.

It let loose a terrible scream. "E-e-e-e-e-enri-i-i-i-i-i-i! Help me-e-e-e-e!" It reached for Sabin, dark blood dripping. Sabin stepped back and fell on his backside, staring open-mouthed at the thing. "Help me-e-e-e-e-e-e!" It reached for him still, and Sabin scooted back against a wall, there was nowhere to run.  
It plowed on towards him, terrible intent in its eyes. "Look what they did! To, me! Enri-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i! I ki-i-i-i-ll them! Ki-i-i-i-i-i-i-ill! Enri-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i!"

Sabin worked his mouth silently, wanting to scream. It suddenly reared back, clutching its head. "Enri-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i! Save me-e-e-e-e! Help me-e-e-e-e!" The voice sounded familiar but he couldn't place it. He could only stare, paralyzed, as it barrelled out of the room, leaving its terrible carnage behind.

It was gone for a full fifteen minutes before he had gathered his wits enough to support himself to his feet.

The slaughter had painted the walls a gaudy crimson color, and it would take a long time to erase it, but it would never be erased from his mind. He lost his balance and fell against the bloody wall, and recoiled as it sank in. The suit of armor in the middle of the room that had not been damaged by the creature moved to reveal a platform in the ground. 

Sabin, not thinking of any particular consequences, stepped on it wearily and closed his eyes as it went down. He could hear voices... voices...

_Today I have established our new desert nation, Figaro, and I, Galadra Figaro, will be the first king to rule this prosperous nation..._

_The queen Sera, and I, King Chrono Figaro, will be embarking on the ship _Dark Storm _tonight with our children, Tetro, age eighteen, little Sera, age twelve, my blind son, Rasonar, age six, and a little one on the way. Sera and I have decided to name the son, Enri, when he is born, which I hope to be soon. If the Fates are with us, our negotiation with the Empire will go smoothly..._

_It's been so many years since my father died, I never knew him that well. I, Enri Figaro, son of Chrono, am Figaro's current king, and I intend to lead this kingdom to greatness, and establish it a seperate nation from the Empire. Twin boys will be born to my wife Sabil and I, very soon, we'll name the children..._

Sabin shut out the voices, he didn't want to hear any more, he just wanted to get to the bottom, to wherever this elevator led.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Sabin stepped off of the platform gingerly, and into darkness once again, though he was loath to do it, and would have preferred bed and a drug to put him into a deep and dreamless sleep. It had been a long time since he had had another person's blood on his hands, or any part of him at that rate, other than Junior's occasional scraps with Luca, or nosebleeds or, or... he rubbed his temples. He was tired, sick of blood, sick of everything at the moment. And his family... his eyes sprang open. Would they be safe, with a monster running around the castle? Who knows who would be killed next? Even Edgar was in danger, prone as he was in his battle with the poison.

He bolted back to the platform, gripping the metal hand rails with one hand, furiously punching at the control panel with the other, but it didn't respond. He slammed his fist into it in frustration. "Damn, it so... so old! I can't make heads or tails of this..." he took a deep breath and steadied his hands. He had never been good at Figaroan History, as he had told Junior. His brother had had the head for being king, not him. He had only basic knowledge in tool making, not the extensive wisdom that Edgar had on the matter, nor had he that much experience with ancient texts and languages. But... his tired mind worked out a possible outlook. 

Edgar may have had the know-how on languages and ancient texts, but maybe this wasn't one of those... maybe it was something Sabin was good at...  
He remembered all the code-books he had read, the ones that had piled up on his table in his room after he had finished committing them to memory, analyzing how they were configured and made. Maybe this panel was part of a code!  
He saw the shapes of the letters, the numbers, and understood them. They were characters in the ancient code of the Figaroan Royale Code, used when messengers were thought untrustworthy, or times too dangerous to send in the normal writing. When King wanted to contact Prince, or vice versa, the Figaroan Royale Code was used knowing no one could crack it.

"E and L, S and E, leads to G... what? That doesn't make... any sense..." he looked over the inscription on the panel one more time, and punched in the message. "Nothing..." he stepped out of the platform and jumped back in surprise as the floor lit up, white beams arcing across the ceiling. A giant screen flickered to life, as if wanting to go back to sleep, and for a moment Sabin was afraid it would go out again; it looked ancient. He pressed a few buttons, and a map loaded onto the screen. "A whole map of Figaro, but where am I?" A green dot blinked onto the screen. "You are here." It intoned mechanically. Sabin shivered. "Right next to the tomb... But how did I get so close?" The screen indicated his path in red, a secret platform that descended into the room, from the treasure vault. A safe haven during times of war that was impossible to locate by the enemy. 

_Current reports indicate that the Empire is ready to begin Project Galahad. The genetically modified child will be put into training shortly._

"Genetic... modification?" 

_Project Galahad in progress, child is coming along well. Will be scanned for possible malfunctions and backfires. Scientists are pleased with the result._

Sabin looked down. "Genetically modified... like Celes and Kefka..."

_Project Galahad is unstable, scheduled to be destroyed the following month. Empire finds a more reliable way of genetic enhancement._

"They're going to... destroy... no... they can't! Not a child!" A picture of the child in question flashed onto the monitor. He looked no different than any other child, but if this boy, this Project Galahad was really unstable...

_Upon announcement of the Project's destruction, it renegades and becomes fully uncontrollable, destroying the whole industry town of Figaro._

"An industry town!" Sabin yelled hoarsely.

_Project Galahad is loose, Figaro reduced to a wasteland... maybe Project Galahad was a mistake after all._

"The desert... so this was how..."

_Project Galahad resurfaces to claim the throne of Figaro as his birthright, from now on, the Figaro royal family is nothing but a family of augmented freaks..._

Sabin slammed his fists on the keyboard. "No! How? It's not... possible..." The screen flickered, having delivered its message, and shut down.

"Augmented...freaks... Galahad..."

He walked to a door to the left, his shoes clicking almost unnaturally loud to his ears on the floor. He pushed open the door and gasped as the breath was sucked out of him by some alien force. The air was still, no movement detected in the room, or at least, an outlying room, of the tomb. He forced himself forward a few more steps, into the strange emptiness, the barren nothingness, until he was standing over the tomb itself. It was a pure Figaroan sapphire casket, with an Arlorden ruby encrusted in the center. He reached out to touch it, as if something else were controlling his hand, and not him. He touched the ruby gingerly and swiftly withdrew his hand, like it had been shocked.

He examined the case more thoroughly, rubbing at his hand. There were oddly shaped slots, where he thought more jewels were supposed to be set in. He felt the holes. It didn't seem right for the jewels not to be there, as if the jewels belonged there, _had_ to be there... but why? Why was the question, and for now, Sabin was trapped.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

He looked up from the coffin, taking his hands from it. "Another blasted screen..." It turned on.

_You can't get rid of me... no! You can't! Ah ha ha ha ha, you'll never get rid of me! I am the perfect project, can't you see? I am perfect, I can't be destroyed!_

A teenager rampaged in the testing facility, laughing piteously, destroying everything in his path. Test tubes shattered, people were blown apart, the room destroyed.

_Can't you hear it? The Call, can't you hear it? It's calling me, it's calling me! But I won't go, oh no, it's not my time yet, ah ha ha ha, no, not yet! I will send you to the Call, I'm doing you favors, thank me! Ha ha ha ha ha!_

Drenched in blood, Project Galahad ripped through the interconnected rooms.

_You can't escape me! You made me, and now I am returning the favor!_

The gruesome melee continued as sirens sounded and armed men marched through the doors, cornering him.

_You want to go too? Ha ha ha ha! I'll send you too! Hellad, Hellad, where are you? Hellad, Hellad, the Call wants you too, Hellad, it wants you and Senahad! Where are you, dear brothers?_

Two other teenagers burst into the room, one red and black haired Hellad, the other black and blue haired Senahad.

_The system has corrupted you, Galahad! The Call, it calls for you! Galahad! Stop this slaughter, Brother! You will destroy us all!_ Hellad screamed.

Galahad's head cocked to the side, an insane grin on his face.

_I, Hellad, it calls for me? No, dear brother, it is you and Senahad, who must leave!_

Senahad reached an imploring hand to him. 

_Brother! Brother Galahad, don't do this to us! The system, it has control of you! It will not let you live, Brother, you are corrupted! You must fight, or succumb to weakness!_

Galahad let loose a wild laugh, and outstretched his arms.

_Let us talk alone, dear brothers, this doesn't concern the normal people!_

Without further bravado he blew away the armed soldiers with intense beams of fire, scorching them and leaving behind their charred remains. He shook his head, blonde hair swinging.

_You are wrong, Senahad! The Call, it has given me power, given me life! I am the perfect Project, the perfect chain!_

Hellad stepped forward, dark eyes glinting.

_The perfect chain for what, Galahad? The destruction of our race?_

Galahad tutted.

_No, dear Hellad, only the destruction of this world! It calls to me, Hellad, the future of this world is dead, done for! We can become a new race, Hellad, Senahad, if you would only join me! Together, we can procreate a new race, of meta-humans! We, the gifted three, can exterminate all the pitiful life that is left on this planet, we can create our own world, our perfect world!_

Senahad stepped forward with Hellad.

_Even if it would mean destroying your own child? Our family? Is that what it would take, what you are willing to give?_

Galahad clenched his fist, dry blood cracking. He walked over to the skeleton of a burnt soldier.

_The weak will be annihalated. The weak, will die._

He crunched the bones underfoot.

_The child is of no importance to me. It is weak, and of no blood of mine. It too, shall be destroyed._

Senahad snarled at him.

_Look at yourself Galahad! Is this what you want? You'd destroy your own blood, to gain power? Your only son! What of our family, Galahad? What of them?_

Galahad turned his blue eyes and locked them on Senahad's green.

_What of them, Senahad? Were not they the ones that subjected us to this, this, experimentation? Was it not they who gave us up, to become, freaks?_

Hellad spit at Galahad.

_Our parents had no choice in the matter, at all, Brother. If someone needs to pay to placate your mind, then let us destroy the Empire, not Figaro!_  
Galahad grinned again.

_Ah, Hellad, ever diplomatic. But you see, they have already, been destroyed._

Hellad and Senahad started. 

_What?_

Galahad nodded to himself.

_Ah, yes, you see... I am gifted with powers far beyond yours, at least, now that I have benefited from the Call. I perfected the art of travelling. Figaro, is nothing but a desolate wasteland now, and soon, I will claim it for my own, and it will be there that I start my new world._

Hellad worked his mouth.

_B-but... what of Mother... of Father..._

Senahad was afraid to hear the answer.

_I must say... it was very satisfying to hear them scream in their death._

Senahad and Hellad jumped at him, elements of destruction at their fingertips, intent on putting Galahad to rest.

_We won't let you get away! Prepare to die, Galahad!_

Galahad laughed at them.

_Did you not hear, Brothers? I am the perfect Project, the perfect chain, I will destroy you all!_

The screen flickered out, no more footage to be shown.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"What the... what the hell!" Sabin stepped back and tripped over the sapphire coffin, landing on his back. "Ow... no more stepping backwards... no more stepping backwards," he muttered as he rubbed his back. His mind was refusing to let the enormity of the situation sink in, and who could blame him, with all the carnage, blood and gore in his head right now... and that Galahad, he was mad!

Worst of all, he had no idea whether Hellad and Senahad destroyed him, or whether 'the perfect chain' had destroyed them. It was all too much for him to handle at one time.

_S...sabin...can you...hear me?_

Sabin jumped up, scanning the room in a panic. "Who-who's there!" Whatever was speaking sighed.

_It's me...Sabin, Edgar! So you can hear me?_

"Yeah I can hear you, but what did you do? Put a bug on me?"

_No, it should be on the floor right now, or maybe climbing up your pant leg..._

"Wha-a-at?"

_The Kato bot, a communication system with the body of a fuzzy, cute, companion. Perfect for blending in with the crowd!_

Edgar sounded much too smug for Sabin's taste.

"Look, Big Brother, aren't you supposed to be resting? You were poisoned, remember? Or did that little fact escape your little mind?"

The Kato bot turned its blue furred head towards him, swinging its long tail. It buried its claws into his leg and Sabin gritted his teeth.

_Well, you're the stupid one of the family, everyone's much smarter than you are! But now is not the time for sibling rivalry, so, where are you? And is my Kato bot responding properly?_

The little cat-resembling robot with oversized ears and large eyes perched on his shoulder, cocking its head inquisitively.

"Yeah, sure, its perfect, as usual. It even responds to the feeling in your voice. What's a Kato anyway?"

Edgar was blessedly silent for a few moments.  
_You don't know what it is? And here I was trying to pick a small animal from your home in Mount Koltz...what a waste of time. It seems you don't know your own range as well as you think you do._

Sabin held the Kato bot in his hands. 

"I've never seen one before, it must be rare. Now that I think about it, I think I may have seen Selena raising a few... do they come in hot pink too?"

The Kato wriggled, an exasperated yowl issuing from its mouth.

_I have only just started my research on them! I'll send you chip mods as I uncover new data, but for now, you have the basics of a Kato. Once I have found some different species and colors to analyze, I'll send you a chip mod to toy around with that too._

"Do I have to listen to you whine all the time? And why couldn't you have sent me my claws or something?"

_I don't whine! The Kato has its own programmed feelings and so forth, but I'll send chip mods to make it more versatile. Soon, you won't be able to tell the difference between it and a real Kato! As for your claws... don't you carry them around all the time?_ Edgar sounded a bit miffed.

Sabin reddened. "Not when I'm sleeping in my own bed, Edgar! Does your wife approve of you having your sword in bed!" Sabin sorely hoped the Kato bot did not have a camera.

_No...sorry, never thought about that, but I suggest you get out of wherever you are. The scanners are indicating something big coming in the bots direction. Just shut up and get out, I'm fine! Your family is fine, we're all fine, just get out of there before whatever that is gets you!_

"Edgar, why did you say that? Something happened, didn't it? What happened, tell me, dammit!" he yelled at the bot as they sprinted down the hallway. He could hear something roaring, crashing through the halls, and he had a sinking feeling it was the monster from before.

There was something at the end of the hall, something closing! It was too far away, he'd never get there in time, he had to, had to! He picked up the Kato bot and risked a glance over his shoulder, and wished he hadn't. It was the monster from before alright, but smaller, and even more blood drenched. He had a sickening thought of Edgar and his children above, and willed the thought out of his head. He didn't want to see them dead, but he wanted to know what had happened to them, he had to know! And he wouldn't be the monsters next meal!

But the door was still far away, the stone slabs would be closed soon, and he'd be dead!

_What are you doing! Get out of there!_

"Shut up, Edgar, I'm trying to think! There are two big stone slab doors! Where in Figaro Castle are there two giant stone doors!" 

_There's only one place, Sabin! The tombs! But what the hell are you doing in the royal tombs! You're not dead yet!_

"I will be soon, if you can't find a way to keep the doors open!"

_Open? That door hasn't been opened since Father died! I didn't open it in the first place!_

"Dammit Edgar! I don't care, just keep it open if you want me alive!"

_There is no way to keep it open, Sabin! If it closes... well, you were the greatest brother I ever had... I won't last long up here, none of us will..._

Sabin's thoughts flashed to Selena, to Junior and Luca. To his brother Edgar, his sister-in-law, and to his nephew, Gerad. Rage bubbled up inside him, keeping the Kato bot on his shoulder; it was time to test his new Blitz!

"Here goes! Aura Rocket Blitz!" he threw his hands behind him as intense beams of pearl energy propelled him forward, and blazed towards the monster. He started to regret the incredible propulsion of his new attack as air whistled in his ears, high pitched, making it feel as if his brain was exploding. The monster was engulfed in the pearl energy and it gave a horrible shriek.

Sabin cleared the door and fell to the ground, his shoulder grinding into the sand. As he slowly came to a stop, and hauled his bruised and battered body up from the earth, he silently thanked the Fates that it was sand and not rock.

He looked towards the castle, the source of Edgar's distress, and with a sinking heart realized that he might have gotten out too late.

The Arlorden assault had begun and Figaro Castle was fighting a losing battle.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Edgar tore the mouthpiece off of his head and turned to his wife and child. "You two stay here, stay close to Cyan!" he turned to his trusted friend. "Cyan... guard them well! Yourself included!" Cyan bowed in affirmation.

Edgar lifted his sword out of the rack, the Sun-Sword of Figaro, the symbol of power that had more status than even the crown of Figaro. He hoped Locke was alright. He knew that somewhere in that mess, Locke was swinging the Figaroan key-mace and busting some heads.

Locke swung his mace, cracking it sharply on the head of a enormous Arlorden warrior, carrying little Lok under one arm. "Dad! I wanna fight!" little Lok swung his mini version of Locke's mace around. Locke gritted his teeth and sent another Arlorden crashing to the ground, a woman this time. "Damn, their women fight too? And you're not fighting Lok, I'm taking you to your mom!" He swung again and kicked an Arlorden from behind. "If I can find her..." 

Kodaka Arlorden strode through the castle, grey eyes blazing. "Where is your king?" he roared. "If he is man enough, let him fight me for control of this desert!" he stood in front of the throne, having made it to the throne room. "Let me fight your king to measure the strength of this worthless kingdom!"

Edgar heard Kodaka's challenge from their room, Lynna still clinging to him. "Edgar! Don't go, please!" she begged. Edgar turned his head away.

"I have to, or what will become of my kingdom? If I have to sacrifice myself for this kingdom, then so be it."

"Edgar! You're still weak from the poison! Please don't!"

Edgar turned to Gerad. "Gerad, will you take care of Mommy if something happens to me?"

Gerad ran to him and hugged him. "Nothing will happen to you, Dad! I'll protect Mommy! And Figaro!" 

Edgar nodded, satisfied. "That's my boy... I... have to go now..."

Before Lynna could protest, Edgar ran out of the room, Sun-Sword in hand, the light of battle in his eyes, and the pride of a king in his heart, to face Kodaka.

Kodaka grimaced. "So, it seems you have courage to face me after all, little Figaro." Edgar bared his teeth. "I'm not so little as you think!"

Kodaka looked at him strangely. "Hm... we will see, little Figaro. Let us see if you bite as hard as you say you can." He held up one hand, palm out, and Edgar wondered what he was doing. He raised his sword.

"You will pay for what you did to my mother! I'll rip you apart the same way you did to her!" Edgar growled. Kodaka laughed, and Edgar's blood boiled. "I would never harm a woman, unless she made clear the intent to kill. If your mother had no ill will against me, then I did not touch her. Who is this mother of whom you speak?"

His hand lit up with white fire and danced around his open hand. "Hurry and answer, little Figaro, I am not known for my patience." Edgar growled at him. "The King of Figaro doesn't have to answer to you!" he lunged, sword arcing to slash at Kodaka's leg and divert his attention from his hand, but Kodaka saw his intent.

"Be wary, little Figaro, I have been on this land just as long as your father had! It was he whom I wanted to kill, but your trespassing on our sacred land will not be forgiven!" Kodaka blasted him full force, and Edgar gasped as the fire hit him and burned his already tender body. He staggered upright.

"I will not forget your father's face for a long time, he murdered my sister, and now," his eyes narrowed. "Now I come, to kill you." Kodaka struck him again, this time plaguing him with cold.

"My father... murdered no one... he could never... hurt... a woman..." Edgar snarled through gritted teeth. "How would you know this, little Figaro? My sister disappeared from our lands before your birth, my sister, Sabil Arlorden, was murdered, by your father!" 

"Sa...Sabil... Mother... NO!" Edgar surged forward with a sudden burst of energy, and Kodaka caught his blade with his hands before it cut down on his throat. Edgar had him pinned, and he would not give up that advantage. "No! Her name couldn't have been Sabil! It couldn't have! No!"

Kodaka's mouth twisted. "Why not, little Figaro? My sister was Sabil Arlorden! Did you know her?"

"Sabil... Sabil was my mother's name!"

Kodaka's eyes widened and he pushed Edgar off of him. "No! She could not have... no, not with a Figaroan!" Edgar stared at Kodaka. Now he knew who those eyes reminded him of, they reminded him of his mother! And if Kodaka Arlorden was truly his uncle, then...

Kodaka exhaled haltingly. "My nephew... my sister's child... you... are the first... Figaroan and Arlorden blood mixed child..." Sabin burst into the room, covered in bruises, battered and bleeding. "Brother! Get away from him!" he pulled his twin away from Kodaka, supporting him.

Kodaka's eyes darkened. "Blood mixed children... my own blood... I cannot... slay my own blood... it is against our teachings. Little Figaro... or maybe I should say... little Figaro-Arlorden... today I am pulling back our assault... but another day maybe... I will not be so leniant. Consider yourselves lucky, there will be a next conflict between us, mark my every word."

And with this last exchange, Kodaka vaulted through a window, landing safely on the castle wall, and called back his men to their desert home, leaving Figaro in peace for the moment to gather the dead and wounded and relieve broken hearts.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Sabin helped his brother up, blue eyes watching Kodaka's escape. "Brother! We can't let him get away! It's now or never." Edgar turned his face away.

"We can't, Sabin. I...can't... he's our uncle, Sabin! On our mother's side. Mother was Arlorden!"

"No way! That can't be true! Then why didn't Father tell us?"

Edgar shook his head, clearing his mind. "I think... he was going to. Don't you remember? Before he died, he said he needed to tell us something, but he said he'd tell us on our eighteenth birthday..."

Sabin finished for him. "Father wasn't there for our eighteenth birthday... we weren't even together for our eighteenth birthday." He cleared his throat. "So...does that mean...we're Arlorden too? How come we could never tell?"

"I've been doing research. Basically, the only difference between Figaroans and Arlordens, is the eyes. Their pupils aren't round like Figaroans, but altered... sort of fire shaped... And their dialect is different of course, as well as their names. As to why we couldn't tell... we always looked more like Father than we looked like Mother. So, we look more Figaroan than Arlorden. It was Father's dark secret, eh?" 

"That's why he wanted peace with the Arlordens... he didn't want to hurt Mother..."

Edgar nodded tiredly. "By killing Kodaka and ending the Arlorden resistance, Father would ultimately be killing Mother emotionally. How could you live with a man when you knew he killed your own brother? You wouldn't get over it easily."

Sabin frowned and shifted from foot to foot. "That's all very well, but I've got to tell you something! There's a monster roaming the castle Edgar! Or at least the basements near the Engine Room! Its ripped apart three guards Edgar! Three! And I would have been down there with 'em too, if it hadn't gotten a killer migraine or something at the last minute and ran away!" 

It was Edgar's turn to frown, and he looked at Sabin closely. "Are you sure you weren't drinking or something? A monster? Of what kind?"

Sabin lowered Edgar onto the throne. "Well, it was like this big!" he stood on his toes and stretched as far as he could in the air. "Except two times bigger! And it was about three times bigger around than me, had a bunch of brown hair on top, and it was covered in horns like six inches long, and had teeth six inches long, mad yellow eyes, and... and... big huge clubs for arms! That had seven inch claws, I swear on the Fates and Father and Mother's graves that I saw it!"

"I am now almost convinced that you were totally drunk when this happened."   
Sabin pouted. "Some brother you are, not caring a hoot when I'm about to get ripped to pieces by a giant monster that's eating your guards! Go look in the treasure room why don't you? It painted the walls a very stunning color of red I assure you! And besides, do I look like I'm having a hangover to you?"

Edgar pushed himself up, using the Sun-Sword for support. "Yeah, yeah sure... okay, I'll check later... but first... I think you should see, our dead." Sabin's heart froze and his mouth went dry.

"They should be performing burial rites about now... there will be a lot of them. And... the doors to the Royal Tomb will have to be opened again..." At this point, Sabin stood stock still, and his brain refused to work. There were tears in Edgar's eyes. "Sabin... you'll have to see this for yourself." he led his brother out the door where the dead were being laid to rest in the desert. 

"Selena... Luca... Junior..." he saw his wife and childrens' smiling faces in his mind, and he wished with all his heart that he'd see them again. Locke was using the key-mace as a crutch and heaved himself over to Sabin. "Hey buddy... you okay?" Sabin nodded mutely. "Okay, I was just checking on everyone... I won't be able to walk without this trusty key-mace for a while... little Lok's okay, and Celes and Lockett are okay too... but everyone who ran to the basement disappeared, 'cept you. Don't worry, your family didn't run down there. I'm sure they're okay. Cyan's looking pretty bad, but he says he's fine. I think Gerad got in a hit or two too... you should be proud of that one Edgar, protected his mom..."

He winced as his leg pulsed with pain. "I'd better be getting back to Celes now... bye... and Sabin... I'm sorry, buddy..." he limped away. Edgar was kneeling by one of the covered up bodies. "Sabin... over here..." he called.

Sabin was suddenly deathly afraid of going near the bag. He wasn't sure he would be able to hold his grief enough to survive, it was killing him without even knowing who had died. He forced himself forward, one foot at a time, his breathing becoming more labored and haggard.

He reached a trembling hand forward and pulled off the sheet. He stared, uncomprehendingly for a minute, and it felt like his brain and his heart had exploded, and that he would never recover from this shock, ever.

It was Junior, his own little Junior, who had died, and the recognition suddenly broke the dam that was holding all emotion back. He held his son's body close to him, sobbing. "What... how... how?"

Edgar couldn't bring himself to speak and further his brother's grief. Locke, who had come back to comfort him, spoke instead. "An Arlorden, Sabin. Junior... threw himself in front of his mother, to protect her... he wasn't strong enough to survive the blast for long, but he Blitzed the guy... you would've been proud... He said to tell you... that he hoped you were proud of him, and he was glad that he had died to protect someone, like you almost did. He said he was always proud, that you were his father..."  
Sabin moaned softly, beyond consolation at the moment rocking Junior's body back and forth, his own body shaking uncontrollably. "Junior... my Junior... If I had been there... you would still be alive... I'm glad... that you were my son..."

He put Junior's body down gently, covering it back up. "Where is... Selena? Does she know about Junior?" he asked softly. Locke pointed to the window of Sabin's room. "She's in there, and I think she knows, but she's got a surprise for you Sabin."

"It might make you feel a little better... you should go see." Edgar said. Sabin nodded and started to his room. He vaguely wondered what the surprise would be, but vague was all his pained mind would allow. He hoped that he wouldn't have to break the news to Selena, and that she already knew.

He opened the door slowly. "Selena?" she sniffed and from her red-rimmed eyes, he could tell that she already knew about Junior. Luca was sobbing in a corner, devastated by the loss of her twin brother. He would try to comfort her later, but for now he would have to concentrate his efforts on his wife. 

But... he could hear something else too... a faint wailing. It was only then that he noticed that Selena was lying on her side in bed, rocking and looking into a cradle beside her. He peered into the cradle, and then at Selena. "Another... why didn't you tell me?" She shrugged tiredly, obviously wanting to curl into a ball and sleep, but she lifted the newborn out and cradled it instead, checking its eyes and mouth, seeing if it was breathing properly. 

"Let me see." Sabin reached out to touch the baby, knowing full well that Selena never let him handle babies until they were older. The baby blinked slowly at his touch, eyes fluttering open. Big blue eyes, like Sabin's. Sabin traced the birthmark on the baby's cheek, a large f-shaped birthmark. The mark of Figaro, a genetic skin defect passed down through generations of the Figaroan Royal family.

Sabin was suddenly very tired. "Boy or girl, Selena?" Selena gave him a tired smile and touched his forehead. "A boy... we lose one... and get another..." he picked the baby out of Selena's arms, and she put up no resistance. The baby eyed him warily, and then reached out to touch him, giggling as he winced. He had touched a bruise. He examined the baby further, noting an uncanny similarity between them, a likeness even closer than Junior's had been to him.

He sat down on a chair, smiling as Luca came to investigate the new child. "I know what I'll name you..." he looked at the picture of his father, the same f-shaped birthmark on his cheek. "I'll name you... Enri... Enri Chrono Figaro..."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**_Eight years later..._**

"Dad! Da-a-a-a-a-ad! Uncle Locke said I could go over to his house and play with Loki! Can I go? I'll behave myself, and Uncle Edgar said he'd watch the boat leave to Kohlingen! Please!"

Sabin sighed and looked over the news article he was reading, feeling the morning beard stubble on his face. Enri watched him hopefully, elbows on the table. His mother put his breakfast on the table and tightened his red headband. "Ah... alright... that is, if your mother says yes." Selena nodded her assent and Enri crammed his toast and juice down his throat. "Yeah! I'll send a message to Uncle Edgar!"

Selena stroked Sabin's stubble with her thumb and shook a finger at him. "I know, I know... I'll do it after breakfast! Now where's that girl! Luca!" Sabin called up the stairs. "Come down for breakfast, Luca!"

Enri laughed, tugging at his mother's dress sleeve. "Luca's been mooning over Lok the whole weekend! She hasn't gotten any sleep since Lok left to treasure hunt away from home last week! She's in lo-o-o-o-o-ove!" Sabin gagged on his juice.

"Lok you say?" Enri nodded, grinning. "Not Lok's grandpa! She's got pictures of him everywhere, and I'm gonna tell Loki 'bout it! Isn't Lok about Luca's age?"

"Yeah, sure is... Lok huh? Does your uncle Locke know about it?"

Enri shrugged. "I dunno. If he does, he doesn't say, same with Lok. Uncle Locke's not really my uncle, right?"

"That's right, now... don't you have to get to Figaro on time? Go on, your Uncle Edgar doesn't want to be held up for too long. He won't appreciate it, I'm sure. In fact..." he got up from the table. "I'll go with you. It's been a while since I talked to him." 

Luca came down the stairs in a white cotton dress, tying up her hair. "That's a huge lie, Dad. You talk to him all the time on the Kato bot." She indicated the furry pink Kato sitting on Selena's shoulder and licking her cheek. Sabin frowned. "I haven't talked to him face-to-face in a long time... a very long time indeed. Don't you want to wait for Lok over there Luca?" Luca reddened and nodded quickly, point taken.

Lok heaved his knapsack over his shoulder, blowing hair out of his face and hefting his key-mace over his shoulder. It was only a look-alike of his father's, but as a weapon it was good enough. He reached into the sack and pulled out his last bit of food, a piece of bread. He sighed, knowing it was supposed to last him to Figaro. He was only half-way through the desert as he was, and he didn't know if he could make the piece last. He scanned the sands for something edible and wished he had listened to Sabin's lessons on desert survival. Half the stuff Sabin had said was edible didn't sound too appetizing to Lok. Maybe to Edgar it would have been; he was a vegetarian!

Worst of all was the sandstorms that kicked up every once in a while around here, or maybe it was the serious lack of food and water... or... he didn't know which was worse. His stomach growled loudly and he rubbed it. He should not have taken his father's advice to go out into the world alone, he should have listened to his mother! How would they ever manage six younger children between them without him?

To take his mind off his troubles, he counted off his brothers and sisters.

There was Lockett, six years younger than him, Loki,Sabin, and Edgar, triplets born about nine months after Lockett, Rachel, nine months after the triplets , and Celes nine months after Rachel. Was he forgetting anyone? Oh! And little Locke, whom his mother had named after his father. His mother had assured him there would be no more babies for a while, but Lok secretly wondered how long a while would last in his father's book. He scanned the horizon tiredly, but Figaro seemed no closer than it had in the morning. He cursed his foul luck, along with his terrible navigating skills. He should just turn back now and head for South Figaro, to catch a ship to Kohlingen, or maybe to New Narshe to his grandfather Lok. He looked back over his shoulder for a second to catch a glimpse of the setting sun, and his foot sank into a hole and twisted, laying Lok on the ground. He cursed through gritted teeth and peered at his aching ankle, swiping at the hole he had stepped in savagely.

"I never should have left Kohlingen, never! Ugh, this bites... how am I going to get home, or anywhere, now?" He tried to stand up on it, but he crumpled again when the ankle couldn't support his weight. "Figaro's so far away... I don't think I can make it over there... This isn't fair! I'm not supposed to die yet! I'm too young to die!" He paused in his tantrum and spotted a rocky outcropping not too far to the west. If he was unlucky, he might have broken his ankle, and he was doomed. But if it was just sprained... he might be able to wait long enough for it to heal. Using his arms, he dragged himself to his safe-haven. It could shield him from any sandstorms, or from any unfriendly forces. "That's just what I need right about now, hundreds of Arlordens breathing down my neck.

Lok collapsed on the cold stone floor, praising his father for bestowing some of his luck on his unlucky son. He raised his head a bit off of the ground. "Hey, is somebody in here?" he dragged himself over to a wall and sat himself upright.

"Well, you're quite a little mess, aren't you?"

"Uhm... yeah sure, could you help me out here? My ankle's broken."

The other inhabitant of the cave snorted. "If that's broken, then I'm a chocabo." the man stepped out of the darkness of the cave and Lok gasped.

"You! You're... you're... Fleetblade! The greatest warrior in the world!" Lok's mouth tried to suppress a grin. "Kind of a tatoo job, aren'tcha?" The man regarded him coldly. "Youth has no respect for elders, nowadays, eh? I should set you straight. These tatoos are symbols of my rank and warrior status, so you would do well not to insult them. And that ankle of yours is certainly not broken." He grabbed Lok's ankle firmly and Lok yelped with pain. "First of all, none of this Fleetblade business, you hear? My name is Johann-Christian Fleetblade. You, smart-mouth, can call me Johann."

Lok kicked and squirmed under the man's hand. "Why though? You're older than my grandpa! Shouldn't I be respectful, o mighty old one?" Lok yelped again as Johann twisted his damaged ankle a little more. "I can break this off if I want, you know. All I ask is for a little respect, got that, Lok?"

Lok stopped his squirming. "How'd you know my name?"

Johann let go of him, a little flushed. "Knew a boy who looked like you, name was Lok. Guess I sort of saw him in you. But that was a long time ago, a very long time. I suspect he's grown." Lok stuck his tongue out at him. "Heh, if he was a boy then, he must be a man now, huh? I thought you were smart too, cause Grampa always said you were. Grampa Lok'd say it all the time, that you were smart and brave, and all this other stuff. He's like your biggest fan, and personally, I think he's pushing it with you."

Johann studied him suspiciously. "He said that? And he's your... grandfather?"

Lok nodded proudly. "And I was named after him! Grampa Lok is the strongest! I think he might even be stronger than my dad, and even you!" Johann raised an eyebrow and ran his hand through his fair, white winged hair. "That, I doubt. Haven't seen him in a long time, do you know where he is?" Lok crossed his arms. "Ya, he lives in New Narshe now. But I've been away a long time from home, so..." he shrugged his shoulders. "He might even be visiting Dad now with Gramma." 

Johann sat down kneeled in front of him and started to tightly wrap his ankle. "So... where is a boy like you headed in the desert for?" Lok wondered whether he should even tell a complete stranger his destination, but Johann was the only way he would get anywhere at all. "Well... I was supposed'ta be giving Prince Gerad of Figaro some birthday present from my dad, and something for King Edgar from Dad... 'cause they had a new baby y'know. But Dad gets news kinda' late in Kohlingen, so it may be really late. Dad and King Edgar go way back, Mom said."

"Ah... since before the Breaking?"

"Uh... I dunno, I guess. That was before I was born... I'm the oldest of my brothers and sisters. Number one out of eight," he said proudly.

"Very nice... you know... I had twelve brothers... and six sisters. I was the youngest, Johann-Christian Fleetblade the Third."  
Lok's jaw hung open. "E-Eighteen of you? N-no... nineteen in all! Aaah, and I thought I had it bad with seven! That's just not normal!" 

Johann regarded him. "In the north, it is." Lok perked up and leaned forward. "You're from the north? For real? You mean, Vector North?" Johann nodded. "Yes, Vector North. I ran to the southern continents for... personal reasons. Vector North is not the ideal place to live."

Lok snorted. "Yeah, Dad told me. He said Mom was augmented there! That's horrible."

Johann shook his head. "What you speak of, we northerners call Vector Ease West. Vector North... is very much worse than Ease West. There is...was... slavery in the north, of its own people. Just random people they picked off the street, and it was a tough life. Ten of my siblings were captured, including myself. 

"Then Figaro decided to act when Vector North sent a plea for help, seeing as Ease West was only profiting from slave trade and encouraging it. I remember not which king, but Figaro sent help all the same, and many were liberated, many more using the confusion as a cloud for escape.

"Vector Ease West then thought Figaro untrustworthy, and embraced them in the alliance only to keep a leash on them. Figaro was obligated to join Ease West, since West had helped Figaro in an internal conflict. I heard that the kings after that one were picked off quietly or died in their sleep. Ease West didn't give them a chance, and the king that ruled was pathetic and weak, scared of Ease West's power after they killed his son, the previous reigning king.

"However... the grandson that was supposedly killed in the same boatwreck resurfaced eighteen years later to reclaim the throne. Enri Figaro lead Figaro through a great age of rebellion, and taught his sons to further rebel against the Empire. Edgar Figaro is his son, is he not?" 

Lok nodded dumbly.

"Sabin Figaro is even more rebellious than his father, it is a pity he did not stay with the kingdom... I suspect that he has... perished."

Lok shook his head. "No! No no! Sabin is fine, he's alive and well, actually, and he has two kids! He lives up on Mount Koltz with his wife, and Enri, and... Luca. We've uh... been keeping in touch... but there's no paper or a postbox out in a desert..."

Johann shook his head sympathetically. "Yes... I quite understand, though I sometimes felt in my younger days that love was beyond me... I suggest we get to Figaro as quickly as possible, with my... companion."

Lok looked around quickly. "There's somebody else here? Where? And who!"

Someone else slid out of the shadows quietly. Tall and fair-haired, his mouth was covered by a cloth that hung by his neck. His piercing blue eyes watched Lok suspiciously and circled slowly to Johann, his hand reaching for the large double-bladed broadsword hanging on his back. His other hand clenched and unclenched near his waist, almost involuntarily. Johann waved him down and the new arrival let his sword hand drop.

"I am Musicaa... of the North," he said gruffly, but quietly. "I have matters of importance to discuss with Edga- I mean... the King of Figaro. We will encounter opposition soon, Johann. I suggest we move from this place, very soon." Johann stood up and lifted Lok up. "I have something I need to tell you Lok, but it may have to wait until another time. Musicaa's instincts are not to be taken lightly. Lead the way, Musicaa."

Musicaa inclined his head slightly and swept out of the cave.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Enri sat in Sabin's lap and let his father steer his favorite chocabo, whom he had named Crackers. "It'll be nice to see how Edgar is doing... haven't seen him in such a long time." He turned to Selena. "And who knows? With all of his tinkering with his inventions, he may have come up with a cure for your mute state, Selena."

Selena smiled at the thought, the hope that she would one day be able to actually talk to her children. "I bet Mommy has the prettiest voice in the world," Enri said, petting Crackers. "Yeah, I'll bet on that too," Sabin replied. He looked at Luca. "You've been awfully quiet. Something wrong?"

Luca shook her head. "No, I was just wondering what Leah looks like now. She said she has a baby sister now, and that her name is Fasha. That's funny... Fasha Figaro." Sabin blanched. "Fasha? I bet Edgar named her; he always liked strange names. Leah's mother did a good job with hers, it's a good name, and I suppose Edgar didn't completely botch up Gerad either... it's okay."

Enri growled at Luca. "Leah writes to me, not you! You just peek at the letters when they come in the mail!" Luca stuck her tongue out at him. "Yeah? So what?" Enri mumbled something under his breath and petted Crackers some more. "Stupid and ugly big sister..." 

"Ugly? You little brat! Wait until we get off at Figaro; then I'll get you!"

"Waaah! You hear this abuse, Daddy?"

"You started it!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Ugly!" 

"Midget."

"Waaah! I oughta' Blitz ya'! I'll kick your butt."

Sabin glared at the pair of them. "Stop it," he snapped. "The one day I'm going to visit my brother on good terms, you two start fighting! I want you two to behave, or else!" Luca snorted. "Or you'll do what?" Selena signed to him and smiled. "Well, your mother has just given me permission to hang you by your ankles from the chimney of our house. Y'know, there's supposed to be a blizzard next week..." 

Luca gulped and shut up, and Enri started to wail. "Waaaaah! Don't wanna hang by my feet on the chimuney-thingey! Don't wanna!" Sabin covered his eyes with a hand. "I think I just made things worse..."

"Hey! Is that Figaro?" Enri immediately stopped his crying and pointed to the castle. "Wha-a-a-at? You were _faking?_"Sabin yelled at him. "Uh... yeah... heh heh..."

"I'll deal with you later..."

Luca turned on her chocabo."Dad! There's someone out there, over there!" She pointed to Lok, waving madly from Johann's shoulder. "It's Lok! And some old guy... and somebody else..." Sabin turned Crackers and placed Enri on his mother's chocabo. "You stay here, I'll check it out. Refugees on Figaroan land is my business after all. I suppose lost desert travelers is on my bill too."

"Hey! Uncle Sabin! What's up?" Lok squirmed around on Johann shoulder.

"Nothing. We were heading for Figaro, that's all. Who are these two?" 

Lok grinned. "This is Johann-Christian Fleetblade, the greatest warrior in the world, but he'll want you to call him Johann. And that is-"

"My name is Musicaa. I'll do my own introductions, thank you," he said quietly. He turned to Sabin, obviously interested in him. "You... you are Sabin Figaro, aren't you?" Sabin nodded. Musicaa's eyes lit up. "Then you are the one I needed to see! You... I must see King Edgar, and you... We must talk... alone. You and I can talk here!" he sounded rushed and excited, and Johann gave Lok a confused look. "Musicaa's never shown this much interest in anything since we started traveling together. I suppose Sabin is what he intended to find," he whispered to Lok.

"Musicaa... is it? I don't know if Edgar will have the time to see you today..."

Musicaa shook his head, the cloth covering his mouth slipping a bit. "No, no! That's alright! It is you I need to see, more than the King! But we must talk in private! And is... Enri with you?"

Sabin took a surprised step backwards. "Enri... nobody knows about Enri yet!"

Musicaa looked flushed and embarrassed. "Oh, oh yes, of course, but I know about him... because he's my..." he gave Sabin a pleading look. "Please! We must speak in private! I cannot reveal my secret to many, but only to you, and the King! Please!"

Sabin looked at Johann and Lok. "You two, my wife is waiting with our chocabos a little farther ahead. Take Crackers here, and go to them. I can walk back to the castle from here." Johann nodded to him and dumped Lok on Crackers. He mounted Crackers and they rode towards Selena, Luca, and Enri. 

"Now, Musicaa, we have time to talk."  
Musicaa nodded vigorously. "Yes! There is much I must tell you! Many secrets, and a long story indeed... my story... and the story of my family, and you and the King are part of it!"


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Musicaa's eyes darted around, giving the feeling that he was somewhat uncomfortable with what he had to say. "I suggest that we... maybe find shelter. My tale might take quite a while, and I do not wish to be caught in the middle of a storm, whether it be of people, of wind, or of sand."

Sabin sighed. "Well, you're a cautious boy aren't you? I'm assuming you've lived here for quite a while then, if you're so at ease with the desert. It seems it is more of me that you are uncomfortable than the sands or storms."

A rebellious light shone in Musicaa's eyes. "That may be, and it may be not. Sabin Figaro, there is one thing that I must desperately say to begin my tale, and that is..." he took a deep breath and lowered the cloth from his face. "That is that you have raised me since I was a child... and I am your grandson, Musicaa Sabin Figaro."

Sabin's face hardened. "Is this some sort of joke, because I don't have the time to play games with you. My daughter hasn't had any children, nor will my son for a long while yet, and you claim to be my grandson. You're older than Luca for crying out loud!" Musicaa quailed slightly. "I knew you would not believe me the first time I said it... you were never supersticious, or easy to fool... nor were you easy to prove truth to! What will I have to do to prove this to you!"

Sabin crossed his arms and thought. "It won't give me complete proof, but where's your mark? Everyone in my family has one. If you are related to me, you have one too." Musicaa's eyes narrowed and regarded Sabin. "Do you have the mark? I never saw whilst I was younger." Sabin growled at him and showed Musicaa his forearm where the dark f-shaped mark of Figaro seemed tattooed into his skin. Musicaa nodded and obligingly rolled up his right sleeve. "My mark is here. In the exact same spot as yours, Grandfather."

"Don't call me that." Musicaa shrugged. "If that is what you wish. What more do you need?" Sabin thought harder for a way to prove Musicaa false. "Which of my children is your parent, if that is the case at all."

"Enri is my father. He disappeared when I was a baby, and you raised me on Mount Koltz. You used to take me to the Annual Figaroan Fair when I was little, and you entered me in the sparring tournaments there when I was older. You taught me the Blitz and you were proud of the fact that I won every year until I became deathly sick and had to be treated. You had to work around the clock to pay off the bills, but you still worked so that I'd have a chance. After that, you took me to visit my great-uncle Edgar here so I could help him with his tools and teach me about them..." He looked up quickly, realizing that he was rambling. "What more proof do you want! I'll give whatever you ask!"

"I doubt you have anything that could change my mind. I think you're a fake and a fraud, because what you speak of is the future, and there is no such thing as time traveling."  
Musicaa reached into his coat and pulled out a picture, shoving it in Sabin's face. "Here! This is the only thing that I have of my father! The only thing he left for me, his son! If this doesn't convince you, then I'm not willing to try anymore, and you can let yourself die if you want!" he screamed. Sabin stared at the picture, faded and crumpled on the edges. A picture of a young Enri and Sabin himself, holding a newborn in his arms. "Enri..." it was unmistakable. It was his Enri, grown up with a son of his own."

"There's another one stuck on the back of it," Musicaa muttered hollowly. Sabin turned it over to a picture of Selena and himself on their wedding day, dressed up for the big day and beaming back at him from the picture. "This... I have this... right here..." he pulled out his own picture and compared it to Musicaa's. They were exactly the same, not a flaw to undermine the genuinity of it, not a single thing out of place.

Sabin sighed and felt his forehead. "I'm not delirious... great. Look, Musicaa, not a word of this to Selena, or Luca, and especially Enri. Not a syllable, you hear me?"

"Yes, Grandpa."

Sabin turned quickly and stomped off in the direction of Figaro, letting Musicaa laugh silently at his sulky behavior. "So why'd you come from the future, eh? Old Sabin not good enough for you?" Musicaa shook his head and grinned. "No, no, no! That's not it. I mean, I love you and all, Grandpa, but I really wanted to fiddle around with the Time Device, and well... poof, here I am."

"Great. Just great. Time Device now, perfect. I just want to go home, get in bed, curl into a ball, and sleep for eternity, that's all. Bed seems so nice right about now."

Musicaa glared at him. "Hey! Don't get us lost out here just because you're feeling suicidal. That's no good for me, man." Sabin bit his lip, irritated. "I'm trying to navigate, here! Can't you be quiet for one minute?" 

"No! I can't, because you've gotten lost, and now I'm gonna die!"

"I didn't say I was lost! Which concept of the words 'shut up' do you not understand?" he furrowed his brows. Something was wrong... like he was being watched... or followed... he didn't like it, though Musicaa seemed to see nothing but Sabin in front of him. "This sand is getting in my face! There's gonna be a bad sandstorm soon!" Musicaa yelled at him. Sabin snorted. "So? I've been in a sandstorm before; it isn't that bad," he lied. He turned and looked behind him, but there was nothing. He turned back, disgusted with himself. "Look at you! You get old, and you're already paranoid!"

His head swiveled around again, his eyes narrowed. "Or maybe... duck Musicaa!"

Musicaa looked clueless and confused. He looked around, bewildered. "Duck...?" Sabin hurled himself at him and pulled him to the ground as something big flew at the space where his head had been. Sabin got up quickly, ready to fight.   
"Same old trick, eh Vargas? You never change! When will you just leave me alone?" he shouted. "V...Vargas!" Musicaa choked out.

Vargas stared at Sabin, contempt practically oozing in his voice. "You? I will leave you alone when you are dead! Unlike you, I have rigorously trained all these years. You," he spat, "You become soft and waste your skills, and it is the perfect time to rid myself of your prescense!" 

"Stand back, Musicaa. I can handle this!" Musicaa held onto his arm. "No! No, don't fight, not now! You're not strong enough, you'll die! He'll tear you apart, don't do it!" Musicaa whispered furiously. Sabin tore his arm away from Musicaa's grasp. "Vargas is mine, I'll do it. And if this doesn't turn out so well..." Sabin shrugged. "Then it's my fate, and I'll join my father, I suppose. But... that's not going to happen!" 

He charged and ducked under Vargas' swing for his head, lashing out with his fist and connecting it with his opponent's stomach. Vargas hunched over for a split second and quickly jumped back, clearing Sabin's follow-up swing and catching his arm. Sabin swung out with his other arm and Vargas caught it easily, sending electricity running through Sabin with a small-scale Electroshocker Blitz.

Sabin gritted his teeth and tried to keep his knees from buckling as the electricity surged through. "Aaah! You... you're toying with me!" he said furiously, rage welling up inside of him. "You see, Sabin? I am the better man; I always was, always will be, especially once you're wiped off the face of the planet!"

"Grandpa! Hold on, Grandpa!" Musicaa held his hands over his head. "_Fierce storms and white lightning, I grant thee the power of Lightning!_" he swung his arms downward towards Sabin, and then fell to his knees clutching his forehead. Slowly, Musicaa withdrew a hand, a glimmering ball of white energy floating on his palm. "_Fierce storms and white lightning, I grant thee the divine element of the storms! I grant thee lightning and part of light itself!_"

The ball wavered and then split into two, one a shimmering ball of crackling yellow energy, the other an orange sphere of energy that receded into Musicaa's forehead. "_Divine power I grant to thee, to use the Power of Storms!_" Musicaa pointed to Sabin and the energy collided with him, sinking into his body. Vargas had the sense to back off as Sabin fell to the ground, shaking with the impact of the energy. "Aaaagh... too... much... energy..." Blue arcs of electricity jumped across his body and he tried to contain his pain. "Overload Blitz!" A blazing white mark shone on his forehead for an instant before blinking out, and as it blinked out, a seething beam of electricity swept across the land in front of him, missing Vargas by mere centimeters, but the closeness of it jolted Vargas with more power than he thought possible to throw. His hair stood on end and his body convulsed painfully before he collapsed on the ground, twitching madly.

Sabin's eyes closed and he fell face first into the sand, unconscious before he hit it. Musicaa crawled to him weakly. "Grandpa? Grandpa, wake up! Grandpa..." his vision swam; that wasn't good. He looked up as he heard footsteps, into the eyes of a grey-eyed youth dressed in odd clothing. "Ter verth henu!" he shouted to some other men. Musicaa swayed and fell next to his grandfather, completely exhausted and at the mercy of the strangers.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Gerad looked out anxiously from the castle wall, sword in hand. "Dad! Weren't Enri, Uncle Sabin, and the others supposed to be here by now?" He looked behind him, but Edgar was no longer there. "Father?" he looked around his immediate area and spotted Fasha playing on the wall. "Fasha! Fasha, you're not supposed to be playing on the wall!" He picked her up and set her down on the stone floor. Fasha pouted and plucked at her goggles. "I wanna play up on the wall! It's fun!"

"And it's also dangerous. Where's Dad?" Fasha looked thoughtful and put her chin in her hand. "Papa said he was gonna see how Mama was doing. I think it should be the other way around, don't you, Gerad?" Gerad picked her up again and looked out into the desert again. "Yeah... Dad has been looking a little thin and weak lately... I'm worried about him. What if he's... if he's..." Fasha held onto his tunic tightly. "No! No, don't say it! Papa will be okay, he's the strongest Papa in the whole world!" 

"Yes, yes of course he is, Fasha... Why don't you go play with Leah? I'll go check up on Dad." Fasha nodded and ran off to play with Leah in her room.

Gerad opened the door to his father's room and sighed inwardly with relief to find him there, working. "Father, are you feeling alright?" Edgar paused in his work and looked over his shoulder at his son. "Um... yeah, sure. Why wouldn't I be feeling okay?" Edgar's eyes were half-closed, and his face tired, and Gerad could tell not everything was alright. "Father, if you want to rest... I can do this paperwork for you. I'm not a child anymore, I know what to do. You taught me yourself."

Edgar put down his pen and rubbed his eyes. "No... no, that's alright Gerad. I can do it myself. I'm just a little worried about your uncle, Sabin, that's all... I just got... I don't know... tired all at once." he stared at the papers blearily. "Maybe I should rest after all. If you can handle it, Gerad..." Gerad helped him up and sat down. "I can do it, Father. You go rest, and check on Mom too. It'll be good for both of you if you just rest."

Musicaa opened his eyes slowly, groaning a bit as he shifted his head. He ceased to move and took in his surroundings. He was in some tent... with various strange and foreign ornaments hanging on the walls, and somebody was sitting cross-legged on the floor quite close to him. The youth looked up, grey eyes watching him warily. "Ena? Ryu letha ko?" Musicaa blinked at him. "What did you say?"

"Oh, you don't understand our language... but... you have Arlorden eyes." Musicaa looked at him strangely. "I don't have Arlorden eyes." The youth nodded. "You do. I checked while you were asleep, though the old man's is more prominent and easier to see than yours." he extended a hand. "I think in Figaroan tradition it is customary to shake hands, is it not? I asked if you were with us and if you were feeling alright, that's all."  
Musicaa took his hand and shook it. "I'm Musicaa. The old man is my grandfather. Where is he?"

"I am Bardoak. I think my father is attending to him... my father the chieftain. The others would have killed you without remorse had I not been there, so feel priveleged." Musicaa nodded. "Indeed I do... but why would they have killed us?"  
"My father, Kodaka, has declared that any Figaroan found on our sacred lands unless woman or child will not be shown mercy. The others, however, think Father is being much too merciful, and should kill anyone on our grounds, and I would have thought that too, I suppose... but..." he smiled apologetically, showing unusually sharp canines. "I lost two older brothers in Figaroan wars... and a sister. I do not want anymore needless bloodshed; but it is our sacred lands, and sacrilege will not be tolerated... did I use that word correctly? Sacrilege?"

Musicaa was taken aback by the sudden turn in conversation. "Yes, I think so. But my grandpa; is he okay?" 

Bardoak nodded. "He is fine, though he seems drained somehow... like my father looks after he has trained with the Elements too long. Perhaps his affliction is similar?"

A little boy tumbled awkwardlly into the room, running into the pole that held up the tent and falling down to the sand. He felt the ground, and then the pole, before looking around. "Over here, Subin." The boy focused on Bardoak's voice and turned in his direction. "The strong man woke up! He's awfully weak right now though... he can't... can't... uh..." he stuck his hand in his mouth. "Eat?" Bardoak offered. Subin nodded. "That's it! He won't eat yet, but he tried to swing at Dad and he's struggling pretty hard. Dad wants you over there."

Bardoak nodded and got up from the floor. "Okay. You stay here with Musicaa. Be a good boy, and don't run into anything." Subin felt around for Musicaa's bed, and then took a seat next to it. "I'll sit right here, and I won't move."

Musicaa looked at his new guard, little Subin. "Hello there. You're Subin, huh?" Subin nodded in Musicaa's direction, but kept his eyes tightly closed. "Yep, that's my name. Do you... know about Memory Pools?" he asked suddenly. Musicaa started. "Uh... yeah... I was thinking about one right now... that's scary. How'd you do that?"

Subin tapped his head. "I can't see, so Dad taught me to read people's Waves. Like their auras, that tell what they're thinking, except in pictures and code and stuff. I don't get it yet, but Dad says he'll teach me more when I'm older. I wanna know about Memory Pools! Can you tell me about them?"

Musicaa crossed his legs on the bed. "Well... where do I begin...Memory Pools... are like big storage containers for people's memories, except they're pools of water-like liquid. Grandpa said when you put your memories in one... after you die, you go back to the first memory pool that you put your memories in, so I guess you sort of become a memory. And you can replay them over and over again." Subin listened propped up on his elbows. "Can we see the people when they're dead?"

"I dunno... Grandpa says he thinks only children can see them... either that or they appear before whoever they want to. But they can't stray to far for too long, or their essences will... pull apart and they will cease to be. He said he thought he saw his mom when he was younger, but he didn't really know if he was hallucinating or day-dreaming, or whether it really was a Memory Pool image of her, so..." he shrugged. "Nobody really has anything solid on them."

Subin looked at him slyly. "I know where a Memory Pool is. I can see my brothers and sister, and Mommy too. I can see their Waves, and they talk to me, I heard them! Daddy goes down to the Pool too, to visit them every morning before he starts training or going over battle plans or whatever. You wanna see?"

Musicaa furrowed his brows, and something in his heart jumped. "I could? You'd show me?" Subin nodded and felt around for his hand. "Come, and I'll show!" he dragged Musicaa through the camp, weaving between houses and stores. "This is our permanent home. We come here half a year during the Sandstorm season, cause the houses are sturdy and sandproof. Its fun here too, and sometimes the women stay here all year round."

Musicaa took a good look at his surroundings.Tanned men hawking their wares in stalls and schooling children in the shade of other houses, women carrying young children on their hips to market, others with their husbands just relaxing in shade, or rationing out water. He could see a large crowd outside one house in particular, the biggest house he had seen so far. "Who lives in there? The giant house?"

Subin frowned and turned his head towards it. "That's our house. The strong man is putting up a big fuss, and it seems like..." he brightened up considerably. "Daddy is having to wrestle him down and tranquilize him! Night-night strong man." he pulled Musicaa again to the outskirts of the small town, and everything got considerably cooler. "Daddy said not to go to the Memory Pool anymore, but I don't see anything wrong with it, do you?" 

Musicaa stared at the expanse of Memories. "Oh my... look at all this..." he bent down over the water and reached out a trembling hand to touch it. It made little ripples in the water and an image washed in before him. "That's me... and Grandpa... taking me home." A wailing baby Musicaa kicked and flailed in Sabin's arms, smacking him soundly across the cheek while Selena tried to soothe the fussy baby. "Wow... is that... Grandpa's Memory?" Another image appeared, but it was of a young Sabin this time, playing with his brother, Edgar, and his father, Enri. Musicaa looked harder and another image floated by. "Father," he breathed. "Father..." Enri talking to Sabin, Sabin seeming to implore him not to leave the house. Enri taking up his claws with a determined look in his eyes, bidding his parents good-bye, and leaving. Sabin standing in the doorway helplessly, clutching at his heart.

Musicaa jumped back. "Wait! This hasn't happened yet... that's not possible... unless..." he scanned the surrounding area but found nothing. "Unless Grandpa was here... or something is very wrong with this place..." he looked around again, and felt an oppressive feeling bearing down on him, an evil prescense... or at least a dangerous one. He took Subin by the hand and backed away slowly. "We have to leave... there has to be a reason your dad said not to come here. Has to be..." he felt his mind cloud over and his vision get fuzzy. He pushed Subin. "Go!" he muttered thickly, and Subin heeded and ran. He stepped a few paces back, and his legs grew heavy, making him sink to his knees.

"What... what the heck?" he felt a piercing pain in his forehead and his hands flew to it. "N-no! No! I won't let you take it... No!" he felt something probing his mind, an unwanted thing that made him feel unclean and he shuddered, wrenching himself backwards. "Get out of my head! Get away!" his breaths came in shuddering gasps and he tried to recall the chant for an elemental blast attack, but he couldn't. He raised his hands helplessly in front of him, as if they could ward off whatever was trying to read him. The pain in his head became worse, and he could see a bright orange light through his tightly closed eyelids. "No!"

"_Element of Storms, send me your fury, together we will destroy darkness!_"


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Musicaa opened his eyes slowly and cautiously as the pain in his head receded, and he felt himself being lifted up. He opened his eyes some more as whoever held him shook roughly, and he decided it was useless to play dead.

"Grandpa! W-what? How did you?"

"We have to go back. Now." 

Musicaa gulped and nodded, eyes down so they would not make contact with his grandfather's. "But what about you? I mean, the younger you?"

"I've taken him back... or maybe I should say forwards...he is at home, just as you should be. Go." Sabin let Musicaa down and Musicaa walked slowly towards an open portal. "I'll talk to you once your grandmother has seen you. Alone, Musicaa." Musicaa's head hung in shame and he quickened his steps towards the portal.

Sabin waited until Musicaa had gone through, and took one last look at the tainted Memory Pool. He sighed. "So many memories wasted... Musicaa will fix it one day, if I can remember to send him." He stepped through the portal to join his grandson on the cold, wintry slopes of Mount Koltz, and saw Selena watching anxiously from the doorstep. He smiled slightly and waved her inside, pushing Musicaa gently behind her.

Selena sank onto a couch and frowned at Sabin. "You're not supposed to bring anyone back! And where was Musicaa? You can't strain yourself like this anymore, Sabin, it's too, well, straining!" He sat down next to her and kissed her cheek. "I'm okay right now, Selena," he said quietly. "Go to your room, Musicaa, and go to bed." Musicaa nodded sullenly and walked quietly down the hallway, pushing open a closed door. He ran and threw himself onto his bed, beating at the pillow briefly before turning over and staring at the opposite wall where his newspaper clippings were hung up. They were all events from the time of the Breaking, where his grandfather and his great-uncle had fought to restore peace with their friends.

"It's not fair, there's nothing like that happening now! I wish there was... so I could do something and Grandpa wouldn't yell at me." he noticed his grandfather's past self lying wrapped up on the floor in a blanket. "You ever had one of those days? I bet you have. I should ask Grandpa when he's in a better mood."

He lay back on his bed for an hour, before thinking that there had to be something serious his grandparents were talking about, since his grandfather usually wasted no time in disciplining him. He got up and changed out of his sweaty clothes, not wanting to be stinking and wet if his grandfather decided to chastise him on the spot, and into his bed clothes. He tossed the clothes and scarf into a laundry basket and pulled on a clean pair of socks before heading back down the hall and towards the dining room. The door was closed there, also highly unusual in his grandfather's household, and he laid his ear against the door.  
"I don't know how much time left I have, Selena. It's becoming harder and harder to wake up in the mornings, like I don't have the strength to do it anymore..."

He could hear his grandmother crying and he pictured her wringing her hands, like she always did when she was upset, and biting her lip.

"Sabin, I don't want anything to happen to you! I don't know what I'd do, or how I'd raise Musicaa by myself, or, or, or," Selena was working herself up into hysterics, or at least dangerously close to them. "I don't understand what's wrong! You don't have any kind of illness that I'm aware of, and you've just been looking... so weak... you're getting thinner and eating less, and you sleep more now... I don't understand!" Musicaa cracked open the door and saw his grandmother hug his grandfather tightly.

"I... Musicaa knows what it is... he's a good-hearted boy, he went back to try to find a cure... for my heart. My mother had the disease, and I guess I got it from her. I don't think there's a cure for it, and it's just gotten worse and worse... I fear it's won't be long till I'm..." he made a helpless gesture. "Till I join the rest of my family in the Royal Tomb."

Selena let loose an anguished sob and sat down heavily on a chair, face in her hands. Musicaa's hands shook and before he could stop himself, he had flung open the door and ran inside. "Grandpa!" he ran to Sabin and his grandfather opened his arms and hugged him tightly. "Musicaa... my little Musicaa..."

"I tried, Grandpa! I tried... and now I know! Uncle Edgar had the cure... he had it... still has it... and I can go back and get it Grandpa! I can... and you'll be okay again!" Sabin shook his head. "No. Edgar has been... Edgar disappeared years ago... years and years ago. I think he was ambushed and murdered on the way to a meeting with Imperial Fanatics. I searched for five years, and I found not a trace of him. Edgar had it with him, and now he's gone.

"And there's something else I need to tell you Musicaa... about your father, Enri. And your mother." Another despairing wail was heard from Selena and Musicaa fought the urge to comfort her and tell her everything was going to be okay at that very instant. He stood and focused all attention on Sabin. Sabin sat down and pulled a chair close to Selena, an arm around her shoulders.

"Enri... died... before you were born."

Musicaa stared at him, uncomprehendingly, but then a horrible thought dawned on him. "You... you lied to me! You knew, all these years, and you lied! You told me he disappeared!"

Sabin averted his gaze from his grandson's furious green eyes. "No... Enri died... and your mother... died giving birth to you..."

"No! That's not true! You told me..." he sank to his knees. "you told me that she was abducted and Dad left to look for her, and left me with you. You told me he'd be back some day, but that was... a lie. He was dead all along, and you let me harbor false hopes that he would come back one day, you... you... _liar_!"

Selena clung to Sabin, a pleading look in her eyes. "Musicaa! We did it for you! So that you wouldn't feel alone, and pine for them..." 

"You lied to me! I lost my father, and you _lied_ about it, lied through your teeth, and smiled doing it!"

Sabin got up abruptly, a cold, deep look in his eyes that Musicaa couldn't place. "You forget yourself, Musicaa. You lost your father, but I lost my son! I was there when he died! And I'm here now, and I wonder, why did I live, and he die? If I had been stronger, could he have lived? He's petrified now, turned to stone, because I couldn't protect him! Think about that, Musicaa. Think about that before you attack others!"

Sabin turned quickly and opened the front door, slamming it behind him so hard that the windows shook and Selena squeaked in fright. "He can't go out there! There will be a blizzard soon, he'll freeze!" She ran to the door and opened it, calling out blindly in the darkness. "Sabin! Sabin! Sabin, come back home!"

Musicaa turned around. "Let him freeze. I don't care," he said, and he stomped back to his room, slamming his own door, leaving Selena to call for Sabin as the wind howled and the night air got ever colder.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Sabin shivered and felt his heart thumping wildly in his chest, and he cringed. "No... not now..." he stumbled a bit in the knee high snow and exhaled slowly, trying to reestablish his footing. "Reowr!" a kato poked its head out of the snow and growled at Sabin, who had unwittingly trodden on its tail. He lifted his foot wearily and the pink kato scampered away to a large, gnarled, tree situated on a precipice, hunching over quite stubbornly in the face of many winter blizzards and cutting winds.

He staggered over to the tree and peered in cautiously. Eight fuzzy red kato kits stared up at him with big green eyes, and the pink kato swung a clawed paw at him tiredly and yowled at him. "Hey... I'm not gonna hurt you..." The kato curled up and opened its mouth, emitting a scratchy, digital, sound. "What the...?" he lifted out the pink kato and its color morphed to green, and then to white. "You're Edgar's kato-bot! Edgar! Edgar! Can you hear me?" All that Sabin heard was the kato-bot's digitized wailing, and he put it back in the tree. He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of Edgar's voice repair chips, and gave it to the kato-bot. He patted it and turned. "Gotta keep walking, got keep my heart working... Just a little longer."

He trudged onwards, head down to the swirling snow and ice. Maybe he should turn and head back home... but he was too far gone now, he wouldn't make it uphill in a blizzard, he was too old for that, and much too weak. His fingers started to numb, and he held them under his armpits for warmth, staggering through knee high snow. He stopped abruptly and felt his heart jumping in his chest, felt his chest tighten. He started to sweat, and the sweat froze as soon as it hit the icy air, making a mask of ice on his face. He took another step forward, then another, willing himself to keep going, and his body complied.

His body complied, but his heart didn't, and he collapsed in the snow, fresh ice burying him where he had fallen.

Locke rubbed his hands together through his thick gloves and ran up the slopes of Mount Koltz, as chipper and cheerful as ever, even though he was faced with a fierce blizzard. He was glad he had made Celes stay at home, for she would not have liked the frigid snowstorm as much as he did. He surveyed the slopes appreciatively, thinking he would ask Sabin to paint him a picture once he reached the house. He tied his headband a little tighter around his ears, a bit lower from where he would usually have tied it; Celes would not think well of a man without ears. He grinned broadly at the thought of himself without ears. What a funny little picture he'd be then. The snow was starting to get a little deep, and the trek a little boring. Once you'd traveled through a blizzard for a little while, it ceased to be challenging for a master treasure hunter like himself. He contented himself by running in a zig-zagging motion through the snow, then stopping further up to survey his handiwork.

Whilst he was enjoying himself in this fashion, he tripped and fell through the snow with a crack, and quickly bounced back up, shaking the white out of his hair. He didn't need any more white than he already had, no not at all. He picked up his knapsack and looked around for what he had tripped over, digging around in his immediate vicinity. He had nothing better to do anyway. Then, he felt something. _Something kinda smooth and roundish... _he thought ashe moved his hands up. _Speak of the Empire, that feels like a nose, and a pair of eyes... _he burrowed into the ground some more. "Sabin! What the heck are you doing out here, having a nap!"

He dragged Sabin up a ways by his arms and spotted a cave. "That should be a nice camp site, wouldn't ya say?" he gave Sabin a filthy look. "Or at least, you would say if you were a bit less stupid. Who sleeps outside in the event of an imminent blizzard anyway? Princes these days... humph."

He laid Sabin down inside the cave and rubbed his hands again. "Quite some weather we're having; couldn't be worse. Mayhaps I should seal this up..." he sized up the the mouth of the cave. "Ooh... a challenge. This'll be a doozy." he held up his hands, a determined look on his face, and opened his mouth.

"Shoot, I forgot the words... uh... oh, yeah!" he held up his hands again and muttered something under his breath. A faint sheen of ice shone over the mouth of the cave. "Hm... somethin' thicker..." he tried again and a more solid wall closed over the mouth of the cave. He looked at his work admiringly. "Isn't that pretty? We'll be warm now. Now, what are you conked out for?"

He leaned over Sabin, and then withdrew, alarmed. "Holy heck, you're not breathin' all to good, are ya'? And your heart's not to good either. Why don't you do that shockie thing and give yourself a jump-start, eh?" he touched Sabin's hand and jumped back when it shocked him. "Yow! Not me, you big oaf, your heart!" he grabbed Sabin's wrist quickly and put his hand onto his chest. "Go on! Work! I can't do electric, you can!"

Nothing was happening, not even a spark. "Oh, you wanna be stubborn huh? Must be a defence mechanism... like electric eels or something... ah ha!" he stepped back a pace. "Sorry buddy, but you'll thank me later." he kicked Sabin with all his might, and the sudden attack caused sparks to fly from Sabin's hand. "Er... what if I kicked too hard?"

He used his shoe to gently nudge off Sabin's hand. "No shockie the Locke, no shockie the Locke..." He bent down again and breathed a sigh of relief. "Great... all is well with the stupid prince. Now... time to sleep." he took a blanket out of his sack and slid down the wall. He pulled his headband over his eyes and started to doze.

A couple of hours later, Sabin woke up, surprised that he was still alive. He looked around, and there was no mistaking the headband or that brown mop of hair. "Locke! Locke!" Locke woke slowly, and looked at him drowsily. "Yo, what's up? Other than the ceiling, by the way." Sabin got up, feeling rather warm and short of breath. "I'm up. Why's it so hot in here?"

Locke thumbed the iced up entrance of the cave. "I sealed it up, blizzard outside. It's nice and toasty in here." He curled up underneath his blanket. Sabin raised an eyebrow. "Been practicing with the ice stone, have you? Why is it so hard to..." he cast another glance at the wall. "Locke! You idiot! You forgot to leave an air hole! No wonder it's boiling in here."  
Locke poked his head out from under the blanket. "Oh, oh yeah. Here you go." he waved his hand tiredly at the ice and a circular hunk of it fell out, about half a foot around. Sabin picked it up. "Not your best work, Locke?"

"I'm tired, leave me alone. All I want to do right now is sleep."

Sabin laughed and laid down as well. "Good idea. Night Locke."

Locke was already snoring, and Sabin laughed again, settling down for sleep.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Musicaa cracked open the front door warily and peered outside at the girl and the raging snowstorm behind her. "Ah, Vergo, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at home?" Vergo tossed her tight black braid over her shoulder and shoved Musicaa aside roughly. "Do you want me to freeze? My dad wants to talk to your gramps."

Musicaa gulped. "You brought your dad? Um... Grandpa's not home right now, Vergo." Vergo turned. "Dad! Musicaa says Sabin's not here right now!" Vargas stepped in the doorway and shook the snow off of himself. "Oh, he isn't is he?" he growled. He turned to Selena, who was staring out of the window. "Where did he go?"

"He went out, in the blizzard. He'll freeze to death out there!" Vargas cursed and turned on his heel. "Vergo, stay here. Stupid fool, he can't do crazy stunts with that crippled heart of his anymore." Vergo waved sullenly as her father bolted back outside. She slumped on the floor. "Great... what do we do now? I was coming up here to play, and I got caught in that blizzard, so I sat in a cave until Dad found me. We were going to stay here, but now your gramps is gone, and he has to go back out. Now I'm bored." 

She looked at Musicaa closely. "One of your marks is gone, Musicaa." Musicaa jumped up and ran to a mirror, feeling over his right eyebrow. "No way... it's gone... but there are two left. Fire and Ice... Lightning is gone. Just... gone..." 

Selena cocked her head. "What?"

"You know, those three Figaroan symbols I had right over my eyebrow? Fire, Ice, and Lightning? Lightning is gone! Sweet!"

Vergo blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Good, maybe you will be less conspicuous now. Maybe. If you're anything like your gramps though, I doubt it."  
Musicaa glared at her. "Thanks a lot, Vergo. You know, I'm not so sure your dad isn't just going out there to kill Grandpa."

Vergo glared back at him. "Dad wouldn't do something like that! He's never said anything violent about your Grandpa, and they looked like they were getting along well to me."

Musicaa sighed. "So strong, so intelligent, yet so naive. Grandpa and your dad have been enemies for years, why should it change now?"

Vergo pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. "You're the naive one. Why can't it change?"

"I'm just irritated, I'm sorry, Vergo. I'm sure your Dad's changed... I think Grandpa has too. But..." he turned to Selena. "How did Dad die? I want to know!"  
Selena smiled sadly and turned away from the window. She reached out and touched the two marks left on Musicaa's brow. "It's all because of these... these marks, these powers... When people get power, they want more, and when they get more, they want to do something with it. One of your father's ancestors, Galahad Figaro, was genetically modified by an old world Empire. But... something happened in the modification process, and it drove him mad," she started. 

"Like Kefka? The one Grandpa and Great-Edgar and Uncle Locke defeated? But Auntie Celes is like that too, isn't she?" 

"No, Celes was the peak of esper infusion, no draw backs, but yes, Kefka can be compared to Galahad. Only, Galahad was ten times more ruthless and cunning, a hundred times more powerful." 

"Well if it was really so bad, nobody'd be alive, Grandma!"

"Yes, I'm getting to that. This is where everything plays together, including those powers of yours. Sabin always said that time repeats itself, and I guess, this time, he's right."


End file.
